


Insight & Desire

by WildKitsune



Series: Every Witch Way [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Head Girl Head Boy, Hermione falls for Horcrux Tom, Hermione is maybe related Grindelwald, Hermione makes Tom Jealous, Monster fucking (Voldemort), Multiple Toms (Free Space), Not a soulmate fic no matter what the characters say, Possessive Behavior, Pretending to be pureblooded Hermione, Professor Tom Riddle, Questionable Potions, Someone Tags Along with Time Travel, Someone is Yeeted, Spanking, Suspicious Albus Dumbledore, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threesome - F/M/M, Time Travel, Tom is beautiful, Tom makes Hermione jealous, Tom maybe fucking Harry a little on the side, Tom uses an unforgivable on Hermione, Tomione Trope Bingo 2020, Why did I write a novel for trope bingo?, annoying anagrams, inappropriate use of Avis spell, let me have my random tags!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildKitsune/pseuds/WildKitsune
Summary: Hermione Granger is the most brilliant witch of her age.  This may be why she is arrogant enough to mess with time.  Hermione accidentally travels back to Tom's final year at Hogwarts, and on her trip home has a bit of a stowaway.  As if one Tom Riddle wasn't hard enough to handle, they seem to be popping up at her everywhere she turns.  As Hermione is sucked more deeply into Lord Voldemort's plots, she doesn't know if she will ever escape.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Every Witch Way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803310
Comments: 128
Kudos: 179
Collections: Autonomous Horcruxes, Tomione Trope Bingo 2020





	1. Losing Time

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
> 
> A/N- This story is being written for Tomione Trope Bingo 2020. Because I am not finished and I am not sure if I will be able to fit in all the tropes I have planned I will only be tagging the tropes that appear in published chapters. I am very keen to try and finish the beat that is this story before the deadline, so any encouragement will be welcome!

"There is no way you already have homework, Granger." The tall blonde said the moment he walked into their common room. "Class doesn't start till tomorrow."

Hermione looked up from the collection of books and notes she had spread around her. The moment she realized it was just Malfoy, she shook her head and went back to her equations. "It's a summer project, and I had a breakthrough at dinner, so I'm trying to write it down."

"What kind of project involves athermancy _and_ time-magic?" He asked as he looked over the books she had in front of her.

Hermione jumped as she hadn't expected him to get so close. "Why do you care?"

"I don't." He agreed and stood tall to look down at her. "Just don't get your…" He waved his hand at her. "...dirtiness on our common space if you can help it." He sneered down at her.

"Right, and you don't get any of your snobbishness on anything if you can help it." She replied deadpan.

"That reminds me, this was sitting by our door. It has your name on it," He said as he dropped a small deep-red box on top of her papers.

Hermione frowned and looked at the tag. It had her name typed out on the small cardstock and was signed with an R. She smiled as she wondered how Ron had been so thoughtful to get her a gift. They had been orbiting each other for the last year or so.

She opened the box and found a delicate silver chain with a crystal bird in flight. The charm was so detailed it looked as if it could come to life. With a contented sigh, Hermione put the necklace around her neck and set the box aside. She needed to focus on her work.

She spent half the night proofing her calculations, and the sun was just starting to rise when she set the book down with glee.

She took a slow breath and wet her lips as she leveled her wand in front of her. If the spell worked, it would make an unbeatable weapon in the coming war. She closed her eyes, keeping all the calculations she had completed in her mind steady. It wouldn't work if her numbers weren't perfect and if she couldn't keep them complete and straight in her head as she cast the spell.

" _Retrorsum Tempus_!" She called the spell out into the silent room and felt her heart stop as if the wind had been knocked from her lungs. This was nothing like the times she had used a time turner to get to all the classes she wished to take in third year.

She closed her hand tightly around her wand while still working to keep the calculations complete in her mind. She had set them to go back a few days to when the castle would be empty, and no one would notice the short trip.

Then her heart felt like it was beating rapidly in the wrong direction. None of her studies had readied her for the sensation. When the uncomfortable surge finally stopped, she retched on the floor in front of her.

Her head was swimming as she worked to gain control of her senses. Before she was able to let the nausea pass, she felt the unmistakable feeling of the point of a wand to her temple.

"Now, who might you be?" A smooth male voice asked as he crouched down next to her.

Her books and notes were gone, the rug under her looked to be the same, only there was something off about it that her mind couldn't quite place. Were the colors brighter, or was she just that woozy?

"Hermione Granger." She said as she wiped her mouth with the back of her free hand. "I'm a bit early for school." She added to explain her presence there. Was this some new caretaker that she hadn't met yet?

She turned to look up into dark eyes and a pale face. He was so beautiful that she didn't notice anything else right away. After a moment, she realized that he was wearing a student's uniform with a Slytherin green tie. She frowned as she looked from the tie back to his sinful smirk.

"Who are you?"

He lifted her chin with a single finger so he could look directly into her eyes. "If I didn't know better, I would say you're experiencing travel sickness from a jump through time over the recommended five hours." He said instead of answering her question.

She pulled her chin away and swallowed as she worked to move into a kneeling position. She didn't know the student, but she was definitely in the Heads common room. The fogginess in her brain wasn't clearing up enough to put the pieces together.

"I don't know where I am." She said as she gripped her wand more tightly, thankful it was still in her hand.

"Yes, you do. You're at Hogwarts." He answered as he stood.

"Tom?" A new voice called from behind her; it was female, but beyond that didn't sound the least bit familiar. "I heard voices."

"Nothing to worry about, Anica." He called in a much more smooth tone than he had used with Hermione. "I have everything in hand."

"What's that?" Anica asked, and both Hermione and the unnamed boy looked up to see the girl pointing at a door that Hermione did not remember seeing before.

"I..." The boy stopped and walked over to the door to give it a closer look. "...don't know."

Hermione's sickness was starting to clear, and a dark feeling replaced it as she realized there was only one explanation for two students to be in this common room. And she had no idea who either of them was.

The boy chuckled and looked back at her. "Will wonders never cease?" He asked as he stepped out of the way so she could see her name scribed neatly across the door in the same handwriting that had been on her original dorm when she had first entered the Heads suite.

Hermione looked back to where her room used to be to find the name Anica Parkinson scribed across it. Then looked to where she had seen Draco's name before only to find a name that made her stomach drop.

_Tom Riddle_

Her head shot to the boy, and she thought she might be sick all over again. Her calculations had been perfect, but they had somehow brought her back 52 years instead of 52 hours. How had she made such a horrible error?!

"It seems this appearing student was expected after all," Tom says with a considerable amount of amusement. "But we should inform the Headmaster that we have a second Head Girl."

"How is that even possible?" Anica asked, sounding as if Hermione's appearance had personally offended her. "She doesn't even go to Hogwarts."

"Not yet." Tom agreed with a light in his eyes that did not make Hermione comfortable in the least. "Would you be a dear my sweet Anica and go retrieve the Headmaster? I'll keep an eye on things here."

The last thing Hermione wanted was to be left alone with baby Voldemort. "Maybe I should go to him." She said, quickly pushing herself up to her feet only to lose her balance immediately. If it wasn't for the fact that Riddle had jumped forward to catch her, she was pretty sure she would have knocked her head hard against the rug.

"I don't think you are up to it, doll." He said, speaking way to close to her ear.

"Should I get the nurse too?" Anica asked, and Tom nodded as she headed quickly to the door.

"How far?" He asked softly so she would feel his breath down her neck.

"What?" She asked, playing dumb as she tried to think her way out of the ordeal. She needed to rebuild her entire formula _and_ figure out what went wrong the first time to get back to her own time. She was also quite sure some of the books she had used before were not in print yet.

He shifted her in his arms so he could look down into her eyes. Long fingers gently pushed her hair from in front of her face. "How far have you traveled in time? Calculating your symptoms, I would say it has to be over ten years; if that is true, I am astonished you're not dead."

Hermione swallowed as she couldn't help but look up into his dark eyes. Now that she knew who he truly was, it was hard not to see the red eyes and serpentine features he would one day have. She shuddered at the thought of being this close to the man he would become.

"I could always dive into your mind and find out for myself. But it might hurt." He said with a smile that told her he would enjoy hurting her.

She closed her eyes and quickly turned away, she knew that trick, and she was confident that he would have the skill even at the age of seventeen. She pushed herself out of his arms, struggling with his hold on her.

"Get your hands off me, psycho!" She gasped as she pushed herself out of his grasp and landed hard on her ass.

He smiled down at her and leaned in, so he balanced over her. "You think I'm a psychopath, little dove?" He asked as he got pleasure from the fear she tried to hide. "Now, what could have given you that idea?" He asked in an all too pleased way.

She was saved from answering when an older man she didn't know rushed into the common room, followed by a second younger man and with Anica coming up the rear.

"See, she just appeared, and so did that door." The girl was saying as she pointed between the door and Hermione.

The older of the two men looked at the door for a long time before turning his attention to Hermione.

"Is that your name?" He asked in an unsettled tone.

"It is Hermione Granger," Tom answered for her. "She told me when she first appeared. But she isn't well, and she said she doesn't remember how she got here."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue that she had no such things. She realized it was probably her best lie if she was going to be stuck in this time for a while.

"Let me check her over Headmaster." The younger man said before pushing passed to kneel beside her. He cast a few spells over her that Hermione recognized as diagnostic spells as he tried to see what was wrong with her without actually talking to her.

"What do you remember, dear?" The Healer asked in a voice that most people saved for toddlers.

"My name is Hermione Granger." She said and then rolled her lips into her mouth as she couldn't think of anything safe to tell any of them. "I'm a witch." She added figuring that was important.

"Obviously," Tom mumbled to himself.

She spent the next week in the hospital wing as they tried to help her sort out her memories and balance. With each day of classes, Hermione missed she had to remind herself that this wasn't her time, and she would be attending classes when she got back to where she belonged. But everyone around her acted as if they would just accept her as a student. As if a girl appearing out of nowhere and the castle making her a room was an everyday occurrence.

The second week Hermione was sent back to the room that had appeared for her but was still restricted from leaving the suite. She would even eat her meals there as the Healer continued to worry about her Temporal Sickness without being able to place what it was. It was a bit comical that Riddle had figured it out in moments, and a fully trained Healer hadn't spotted it in a whole week. But how many people studied something as rare as Temporal Sickness?

"Feeling better?" Tom leaned against her doorjamb as she slowly put the robes and other supplies the school had gotten her away.

"Mostly." She said without looking at him. She didn't need to give him a chance to sift through her brain.

"How far?"

"I'm having memories issues." She reminded him.

"I'm the one that came up with that lie." He reminded her. "Give me a number, and I promise not to molest your brain while you sleep."

"Promise, or I'll tell the Headmaster you threatened me." She countered.

"He won't believe you," Tom smirked and pushed off the doorjamb to move closer to her. "What did you use? You don't have a time-turner, so you had to have held the whole process within. What were you aiming for?" He asked, sounding as if he was genuinely interested in answers. No one asked her academic questions with such passion.

"I was aiming to go back 52 hours." She said, finally gave in. He was already so sure of the truth, and it felt nice to talk about what she had done.

"And instead, you must have come back years to be as sick as you are. Not to mention even if your double was in first year right now, I would know someone bright enough to pull that trick if I had ever met them before."

"You sound impressed." She commented, unable to keep the pleased tone from her voice.

"But you also seem to have an idea of my true identity, which makes you all the more interesting."

"Isn't this your true identity?" She asked, finally looking up at him as she sat down on her bed.

"Is it?" He asked playfully. "How far did you come?" He asked again.

Hermione didn't look at him; she knew telling the truth was a horrible idea, but then it accrued to her that maybe she could use him to figure out where her calculations had gone wrong. He was the smartest wizard of his age; everyone said so, two brilliant minds would be better than one. But then there was the fact there was no way she could trust him.

"Far enough, that I know you're a murderer." She said, looking up at him as she reminded herself that he was just a monster with a beautiful face.

"Do mudbloods count?" He asked, not even denying her claim.

"I'm a mudblood, so yes." She answered without fear.

"Really?" He asked as he let glee light up his face. "So, I don't even have to feel bad."

"About what?" She narrowed her eyes at him as she wrapped her fingers around her wand in her pocket.

" _Imperio_!" He cast as his answer, but Hermione was ready for the duel and ducked before the spell could hit her.

" _Expelliarmus_!" She cast at him feeling it was safest to get the weapon out of his hand as soon as possible.

He cast a shield wordless shield as he shifted to get a better aim at her. " _Crucio_!" He had her cornered with no way to dodge.

Hermione screamed as her already weak body filled with flames of hate. She had no idea how long he kept it in place, but she continued to twitch even after the spell was lifted.

"I think we are going to have a lot of fun together, Hermione." He was crocheting over her once more. "Because if you even try and tell anyone what I do to you, I will make sure the Healer is pointed to exactly what your symptoms mean. You'll be discredited, and I will go unpunished, while you, on the other hand, will be locked in Azkaban for the rest of your life." He spoke gently and played with her hair as he explained the situation.

"Harry was right; you really do like to hear yourself talk." She murmured, still half out of it as her body trembled in aftershocks of pain.

"Who is Harry?" He asked as a light gleamed in his eyes. "I'll enjoy listening to anything you have to tell me, Hermione." He said as he brushed her cheek lovingly.

"You don't want to know the future, Tom. You don't know what will change, what step you won't take to become the man that you do." She shook her head. "You can't play with time like that." She licked her lips and looked up into considering eyes. "Help me get back to when I left, so I don't mess up your future."

"You'll have to tell me how far you've come, Hermione." He pointed out as he continued to lazily stroke her skin.

"52 years." She answered, knowing he was right.

"Something messed your calculations from hours to years. Humm." He sounded interested in the puzzle. "We're going to date." He said, making Hermione blink up at him in confusion. How the heck did that leap happen.

"Wha-" She started, and he placed a finger over her lips.

"And you are not going to tell anyone about your blood status. It will give me a reason to be spending so much time with a dame, and it will keep the other annoying twits from bothering me."

"So, you mean we are going to tell people we're dating." She clarified as that plan made more sense than actually dating Tom Riddle even if he was sex on two feet. How could she even be thinking about his looks when she still suffered aftershocks of his curse.

"Exactly. I'll help you get back home, but you are going to have to do something for me." He said, and his eyes lit up as he thought of exactly what he wanted from her.

"What?" She asked, feeling all the more like prey as he smiled down at her.

"You will be my witness." He said happily.

"Your what?"

"You will make a vow to me and swear never to reveal any of my secrets." He said, leaning over her as if he was going to kiss her. She turned her head quickly and bit her lower lip.

"I can't do that." She shook her head quickly.

"Making this oath is the only way you make it home, Hermione; otherwise, I go straight to the Healer." He said as he brushed his lips against her cheek.

If she agreed to keep his secrets, that did not mean she couldn't act on his plans herself, right? So she wouldn't be able to tell her friends what Voldemort was up to, but that didn't mean she couldn't work to stop him.

"Fine." She gasped, and she could feel his lips smile against her cheek.

"Good girl. I'll go summon Abraxus before you can change your mind."

She took the Unbreakable Vow with a sinking feeling in her gut. Abraxus turned out to be one of Tom's chief minions who had the signature platinum blond of Malfoy bloodline. Tom left with his minion after the vow was made so they could attend dinner while Hermione sat at a small table in her room when a tray appeared for her.

The short duel and the curse had done nothing to help her recover, and she only pecked at the meal provided. When she was finally fed up with looking at the unappetizing meal, she covered it and got up to work on replicating her formula.

Tom didn't return to well after curfew that night, and he smiled as he found her sitting on the floor of her room with her notes spread out around her.

"Couldn't find a table big enough?" He asked in a friendly tone as if he hadn't used two Unforgivables against her a few hours before.

"No." She answered coldly, and he moved into her room to crouch down just beyond her rainbow of papers.

"Hermione?" He asked, sounding pleased with himself.

Her gaze shot up to him, which only served to make her dizzy, but she narrowed her eyes at him working to show no weakness in front of the monster.

"Stop calling me that." She snapped. She had no idea why he insisted on acting so familiar with her.

"Isn't that your name?" He asked as his eyes lit with amusement. It was like she was his new favorite toy, and everything she did only entertained him further.

"We are not on a first-name basis." She reminded him, keeping her posture stiff.

"We're dating." He reminded as he kept eye contact. It felt like he just waited for her to drop her guard so he could strike.

"Fake dating." She countered and purposefully looked down at her notes and went back to her work.

"Better to keep the illusion up even in private, it keeps one from making mistakes." He said and picked up one of the papers she had sitting in front of her. "This is the equation you used?" He asked as his tone shifted from amusement to interest.

"Part of it." She said as she restrained herself from snatching the paper away from him. It wasn't finished yet, but he was there to help her. Or at least that was what he told her.

"When it's complete, I would like some time with it." He said, setting the paper down precisely from where he had retrieved it.

"I'll make you a copy." She agreed and felt his long nimble fingers push her chin so she would face him again.

"Go to bed." He ordered as he looked directly into her eyes.

"You don't own me." She hissed and pulled her chin away from his touch.

He leaned forward, his hand bracing on her work and wrinkling pages as he got very close to her face before speaking again.

"Yes. I. Do." He said, punctuating each word, so his lips brushed against hers. "Go to bed, you need rest, and you have had a stressful day." He used his free hand to brush along her jaw as she ground her teeth. "My curse couldn't have been kind on your body." he reminded her before moving back and standing.

She didn't know precisely when she had drawn her wand, but she now clutched it her hands tightly. Before she could decide what she wanted to do with it, Tom turned and left her alone as if he had no doubt she would follow his instructions. It showed how little he knew her.

Hermione shut and locked the door from her place on the floor then went back to her equations.


	2. On a Long Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

The next morning she awoke as she often did, slumped on her papers. At first, she wasn't sure exactly what had woken her. But then the sharp tug on the back of her scalp jerked her head to face the villain. She glared at him and then tried to look at her door that she  _ knew _ she had locked hours before.

"You are going to be a difficult one, aren't you?" He asked, but she knew it was rhetorical.

"Go away."

"If you know anything about me from this future of yours, you must realize how much restraint I've used in dealing with you up until now?" He asked in a low hiss.

"Tom? Are you coming to breakfast?" Anica called from their common room.

"I think I should keep  _ Hermione _ company. I'll see you in Potions." He called back in a relaxed tone that had nothing in common with the intense glare he was giving her.

"O-okay." The girl said, sounding disappointed not to have a reason to walk alone with Tom.

"She likes you." Hermione answered, instead of acknowledging his 'restraint.'

"They all like me." He smirked at her and leaned his face in a bit nearer to hers. "There is even a part of you that desires me."

"Let go of me, Riddle." She growled a warning.

"Tom." He pressed as he tightened his hold on her hair.

"Voldemort." She countered, not willing to give him an inch.

His lips were suddenly pressed hungrily against hers. Hermione's hands moved against his shoulders to push him back, but his tight grip on her hair impeded her escape. She was panting by the time he pulled back enough to give her air. She told herself it was a stress reaction to having him so close assaulting her.

"Get away from me." She growled, trying to push him away with more force.

"I wanted to know what that tasted like on your lips." He smirked and finally released her hair as he stood. "No more of this, Hermione." He motioned to her place on the floor. "You're still in recovery, and I need you fit for when we figure out the error in your calculations."

She stood as well and tried to straighten her wrinkled clothes. "I am not one of your minions like Malfoy, nor am I one of your fangirls like Parkinson." She said as she poked her finger against his chest. "I know exactly what you are under all that prettiness and charm."

"Have you ever gotten close to me before Hermione? You talk like you have personally faced me down. Like I am your nemesis." He said, stepping on her work so he could invade her space and breathed in her air.

"I'm not telling you any of that. I'm just trying to remind you that you disgust me, so you need to stop trying to seduce me."

"I'm not trying." He assured her with a deadly gleam in his eyes. They flashed red for the briefest moment, and she wondered if it was real or if her brain was filling in things she had only heard about from Harry. "You want me."

"Get over yourself. Do I have to remind you that I'm a mudblood? I would think that would disgust you a great deal."

"You are a witch powerful enough to travel back in time over five decades by accident and survive. Your blood means very little after that. We are going to eat breakfast now, little dove, and then I am going to class. You may continue to copy down your calculations until I return."

"I may, may I?" She asked with a shake of her head. "What part of 'you don't own me' do you not understand?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest to keep him at a distance.

"That depends on what part of 'yes I do' that you don't understand?" He reached out, brushed fingers down her neck, playing lightly with the chain there. "Maybe once you are fully recovered, you could be a challenge in a duel, but as unsteady as you still are, I think not. I could keep you weak if you like enough daily Cruciatus to extend your recovery indefinitely. The Healer would just think it is a part of your mysterious illness."

She swallowed as he lightly spoke of torturing her and knowing she couldn't tell anyone about it if she wanted to live.

"Then there is the fact that I can still point the Healer in the correct direction about your illness. Think little dove, this is my time, and I have the power here. You are my pretty little pet until we solve your issues to get you back home."

She bit her tongue as she knew he was right. Hermione needed to come up with a plan, something she could do to protect herself from him so that when she did return home, she would still have her sanity.

His finger trailed along the chain and played with the crystal bird, her one remembrance of home and people who loved her. She quickly jerked away from him, pulling the charm out of his grasp.

"All I am asking is for you to consider your health. I'm not acting unreasonably." He pointed out then motioned for her to move out into the common room.

They ate breakfast in silence. Tom watched her closely as Hermione picked at her food once more. She was even less hungry with him, hovering over her. When he was finished with his plate, she shifted to pick up her cover as well, but he stopped her with a look.

"You've lost weight in the short time you've been here. You need to eat." He said, pulling the tray lit from her grasp.

Hermione forced herself to finish her breakfast so that he would leave her in some peace. She felt too sick to write anything afterward and had to spend the first few hours of her day laying on the couch to control her stomach.

When she finally got back to writing, she didn't make much headway before the lunch tray arrived with a note from Tom demanding she eats the entire lunch as well. Again she felt sick, and she wondered if this was some strategy to keep her with Tom for a long as possible. But what would that get him?

Dinner followed the same pattern, and she had just gotten back to the calculations when Tom and Anica entered the common room.

"Goodnight, both of you," Tom said in passing as he headed to his dorm without a second glance at Hermione.

Anica walked over to her door and gave Hermione a tentative smile. "How was your first full day?" She asked, trying to be friendly. "Working on something?" She asked curiously, and only then did Hermione notice the blue tie. For some reason, with a name like Parkinson, she had assumed the girl was a Slytherin.

"Just trying to remember anything." She answered, waving the subject away. "I'm looking forward to being well enough for a real class." She said, wondering to herself how late she could stay up without Tom noticing.

"Well, if this week goes well, hopefully, next week. Everyone is really interested in meeting the mysterious appearing girl."

"That doesn't sound intimidating in the least."

Anica laughed goodheartedly and headed for her dorm. "Goodnight, Hermione." She called back.

It was around midnight when there was a decidedly male clearing of the throat from her doorway. Hermione closed her eyes and let out a small sigh before looking up to see Tom with a bare chest. Her mind went white for a moment as she took in the details of the smooth pale skin and well-toned chest.

"Do you wish to be punished? Is that your thing?" He asked, looking more amused than dangerous. "Bed. Now." He said in a darker tone.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and decided he was right. She was exhausted from the lack of good sleep the night before and digesting whole meals all day. She headed to her dresser and pulled out a nightgown without saying a word to the bossy monster nanny.

She was almost down to her bra when she realized he was still standing there watching her. Hermione frowned and pulled her undershirt back into place.

"Do you mind?" She glared.

"Not al all." He motioned for her to continue.

"I'm not getting naked for you." She stomped her foot and put her hand on her hips.

"You've proven yourself to be untrustworthy and unable to follow commands unsupervised." He explained flatly.

"I ate all your stupid food." She countered and stomped again, feeling a little like a child throwing a tantrum with how calmly he stood at her door. "I was unsupervised then."

"If you would have gotten ready for bed when I returned to the room, you would have been able to do so in private. Now continue before I punish you."

She licked her lips and turned her back on him so that he wouldn't see much of anything. She quickly slipped the nightgown over her underclothes and removed them once the gown was in place.

Tom chuckled. "Bed." He ordered, and she just knew he was pointing even though she wasn't looking at him.

It took Hermione three weeks to finish copying all of her calculations. It was an additional two to proof them and make sure they were correct before she felt comfortable giving Tom a copy of her work.

She was introduced to studies slowly under the Healers recommendation. Hermione was allowed to choose one class to attend and then grow her schedule as she proved she could handle more work. Her first choice, to the Healer's surprise, was Arithmancy. This decision was met with debate, and she was subjected to a test to qualify for the NEWTs level specialty course.

When she stepped into the classroom, even Tom looked surprised to see her even though he knew it was a specialty of hers. It took him a moment to recover and force a sandy-haired boy to vacate the seat next to him.

She had never been looked at so oddly as she walked into a classroom, and Hermione soon took the place Tom had made for her if only because he was the only one she knew.

"Didn't we talk about not standing out?" Tom leaned into her to whisper in her ear.

"This class will be most helpful with our little problem." She pointed out and glanced around. "Why is it so shocking?" She asked, not understanding why everyone was looking at her.

"Ah, now, I understand. Miss Granger, you wouldn't be here to distract my star pupil, would you?" The Professor asked, and Hermione blushed, slinking down a little in her seat.

"No, Professor." She said, looking around. They hadn't been the only ones talking. It hit her then that she was the only woman in the room. "I'm here to work. I'm sorry." She said as she quickly started to take out her books and other supplies.

The Professor ignored her for the rest of the class. Halfway through, she stopped bothering to raise her hand. Tom was right; she needed to work to leave as little impression in this time as possible. It hurt not to be able to contribute, worse than in her old potions class. At least then, if no one else knew the answer, Professor Snape would call on her.

Once she gave up on doing any more than taking notes, she noticed something that she had never seen from the outside. It was Tom that teacher turned to when no one else had an answer. It was Tom whos hand shot up first and got a pleased smile from the teacher when he was always correct. No wonder others called her insufferable back in her own time. It was truly annoying to watch.

At the end of class, everyone packed and filed out of the room. Once they were in the hall, Tom wrapped a proprietary arm around her waist.

"It's lunch next, are you cleared to attend group meals?" Tom asked in the carefree tone he reserved for the public.

Hermione was sure to all eyes around; they looked like a typical couple in the first stages of their relationship.

"Yes, but shouldn't I sit with my own House?" She brushed her fingers over the red tie.

"Best if you don't get close to any of them," Tom whispered as he led her down to the Great Hall. "It's only mandatory on special occasions, and I wish to show you off to my friends." He explained in a more conversational volume.

He was right. Hermione needed to stay as forgettable as she could. She hoped they would soon puzzle out what had gone wrong with her first spell. Hermione didn't know how long she would be able to play the necessary role to keep from changing too much history.

She allowed Tom to guide her towards the Slytherin table and introduce her to his minions. Nott, the sandy-haired boy from class, held his hand out to shake hers until Tom gave him a look that clearly told the rest of his followers she was not to be touched in any way. Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes as the other boy tried to play off the friendly gesture as if he had been reaching for a plate of butter on the table.

"Tom says you have no clear memories from before arriving in a modest little school," Lestrange said, eyeing her skeptically. "So, you have no idea who your people are."

"The memories she does have are of a magical household," Tom answered for her as he placed a possessive hand on her thigh. She thought maybe he was trying to warn her of something. "I am quite satisfied she comes from a distinguished wizarding home."

"Forgive my worry, my Lord." The man said in a low tone. "You are an important figure to us, and we should be concerned if some mudslut wiggled her way into your company."

"Excuse me!" Hermione growled, but Tom held her in her seat so she couldn't jump up and hex the bastard. "What did you call me?"

"No need to worry, my friend," Tom spoke over her in an icy tone. "I take great care in knowing what I invest my time in, and my darling Hermione is  _ well _ worth my attention. Even if she can't remember her people, I am aware of who they are."

Tom expertly maneuvered the conversation away from Hermione from there. The rest moved on, pretending she wasn't even present.

Hermione simmered in her rage for the rest of the meal but kept her temper in check until they returned to the Head's suite. She picked up the closest object, which happened to be a teacup, and threw it hard against the wall.

"How  _ dare _ he!" She growled and then turned on Tom, who had walked her back to their rooms. "That boy needs to be put in his place!"

"You admitted yourself, you are a mudblood," Tom said with amusement plain of his face.

"That word is disgusting enough." She snapped with her wand in hand. It was not a time to be temping her to use it. "But he had to take it to an even worse level. Never in my life has anyone dared-"

"To your face." He interrupted her.

"What?"

"No one has ever called you a mudslut to your face. I can assure you that you've been called it plenty behind your back."

"You know nothing about my life."

"I know you have a delectable figure no matter how hard you try and hide it with ill-fitted clothes. Your legs alone send images of all the ways one could debauch you to the imagination. The hair is another shield, but I can't see the boys of your time, not being able to see passed it. You're a sexually desirable mudblood. There is no possibility the pureblood boys in your time don't call you slut."

She gapped at him for a long moment before shaking her head. "No." She stood her ground. He might have some delusions, but he had no idea how the boys treated her back from where she came. "I'm not seen like that."

"No?" He asked doubtfully.

"No." She confirmed. "Not that it is any of your business. That just isn't how people see me." She played with the crystal necklace, how many years had it taken Ron to realize she was even a girl?

"So, you are saying that all of the men of your time are blind?" He asked as he slowly stalked towards her.

"Don't pretend like you are the least bit interested in my body." She glared back. "Do I have to remind you that I'm not one of your fangirls?"

"I am curious to know what has given you the idea I am immune to physical desire?" He asked as his fingers brush lightly over her face. "You think I don't fantasize about making you scream?"

"In pain, maybe." She deadpanned, and his expression told her she wasn't wrong. She was fascinated by how much he let her see. She was sworn to keep his secrets, was that why he didn't seem to hide from her. Was that the reason he allowed her to see his usually hidden thoughts. "Even if you're right and they call me that at home, no one has ever disrespected me like that to my face."

"Don't worry, little dove; I do plan to punish Lestrange for his mouth." He purred. "It will also allow me to express what happens to those who question your blood status."

"I don't ca-" he interrupted her with a finger placed on her mouth.

"I care. I will not have people thinking my chosen match is a mudblood."

"Than maybe it would be best if we stopped this fake relationship." She said as she stepped back from him and turned to head towards her room. "I am a muggle-born, and bigots like that probably have some way to tell."

"Who said we're faking?" He asked in a tone that made her freeze.

"Don't you have class?" She wondered if she could put off the conversation for when she was not so tired from her time in public.

"I can miss one." He waved it away and stood firm in her door. "You belong to me little dove; it is only logical to claim you as my match."

"Ever think maybe I'm already with someone?" She asked, and his eyes moved to the necklace, with which her fingers were still fidgeting. "And if I'm not, maybe I don't wish to be your match either way." She added quickly because she didn't want him to take her bird.

"I don't remember giving you a choice." He said dryly, his eyes still focused on the necklace. When he finally looked up into her eyes, he gave her a smile that made a cold stone drop in her stomach. "I'm the one with all the power in this relationship. Besides, it is hardly cheating when he can't possibly have been born yet."

"I despise you." She shook her head.

He gives her a little smile and leans into her personal space. "That may be true, but you also want me."

"I'm not having sex with you." She said because it seemed that was where the conversation was going.

He pushed the hair back from her face and let his nails drag against her scalp. "I would never endanger your virtue that way, little dove. But as your boyfriend, I will touch and taste you any time I like." He explained before leaning in and kissing her nose.

She turned her cheek feeling his fingers still curled in her hair. If she tried to pull away, she knew he would get violent to make his point. It was the price for making deals with the devil. Her jaw twitched as she worked to gain control of her temper.

"One day, your desire is going to surpass your disgust, and you will come to me. You are going to see what I already do."

"What's that?" She turned back to him to give him a cold stare. She needed him to know how very far she was from his predicted day.

"That I'm the only one that will ever be worthy of you." He brushed a finger over her nose and gave her necklace one last glance before stepping away from her. "I have a few ideas to test your calculation tonight." He said pleasantly, before he headed for the door.

He left her there feeling cold. She thought about how many people she had been exposed to that day. How many people would remember her long after she found her way home? She needed to come up with a way to ease her corruption of the timeline before she left. Hermione had a feeling if she left Tom Riddle as he was now, that she would pay for it when she finally met Voldemort face to face.


	3. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

As her schedule grew, Hermione worked not to stand out. As much as it hurt her sensibilities, she didn't answer questions in class unless called upon. Hermione never raised her hand for anything, and she made sure that any work turned in was more to Harry and Ron's level than her own. The more remarkable she was, the harder it would be to erase her when it was time to go.

Even though she enjoyed Transfiguration immensely, she decided not to take it and risk gaining Professor Dumbledor's attention. He may have been curious about her, but he never approached her directly, for which she was thankful.

Out of class, Tom kept Hermione at his side and spoke for her when anyone deemed to ask her a question. It drove her insane to play the dormouse, but she knew it was for the best.

Tom took great pleasure in dominating every part of her life at the school, and Hermione was careful only to show her genuine opinion on anything when they were alone. He grinned when she pushed back on academic theories and reveled in the intellect she exclusively revealed to him.

He touched her carelessly, but never pushed for more than soft kisses upon her face or hands. There was an ever-looming threat of violence that only grew as she recovered more of her balance and strength. But Tom always turned to blackmail before anything bubbled passed the slightest physical struggle.

Months passed, and they went over every part of her formula. Neither could find a flaw to explain how much more time she had moved than what she had planned. In Hermione's darkest moments, she considered what her life would be like if she couldn't return home. She wondered if death would be preferable to playing Tom's pet for the rest of her existence.

It was a week before graduation when she truly allowed despair to settle in. Tom found her curled in a ball on her bed, her fingers running over the crystal bird, and wishing it could bring her back to the one who gave it to her. She missed her friends and had little hope of ever seeing them again.

When the door to her bedroom closed and locked, she didn't move or even react. The fact that she was allowed no personal space was only a fact of life to which she had long grown accustomed.

"Why so sad, my little dove?" He cooed and brushed light fingers across her cheek. He loved to touch her, and in a weird, unhealthy way, his touch had become soothing. He was the only man in the world who truly knew her. She thought he even might care for her in his selfish way.

"Just thinking about exactly what you will make my life into once we leave here. I won't kill people for you."

He chuckled and shifted onto the bed so he could pull her back against his chest. She didn't think he enjoyed snuggling for its own sake, but he did seem to like how much his care confused and worried her.

"I think I have discovered the flaw in your calculations." He whispered against her ear, and she shot up to turn and look at him.

"What?" She asked, and he shifted onto his back with a wide grin. He placed his hands behind his head and just gave her his best arrogant smirk.

"I've brought something to test my theory. A gift from Abraxas." He said, and he pulled out a marble that glowed lavender. He tossed it carelessly to her, and when it landed in her hand, his expression only brightened. "Do you know how much I enjoy being right?"

The moment the marble had landed, it changed from the light purple to rich cobalt. Hermione blinked down at it and then looked back at him.

"What does this prove?"

"That you are a genius and made no errors, which is why we couldn't find any." He said, still grinning.

"But?" She asked because Tom said he had solved the problem.

"But someone gave you false information. Your calculations are for a mudblood to travel 52 hours." He motioned to the marble. "Your blood is blue. I don't know exactly who in your life lied to you, but dear Hermione. You are a pureblood."

Her frown deepened as she could feel the color drained from her face as she looked down at the magical object. "I told you Malfoy would know of something to test out blood purity." She grumbled as she tried to ignore other implications of the new information.

"You should be happy. How long will it take us to recalculate? We'll be gone before graduation."

"We?"

"I want to see your time," Tom said with a smirk as he pulled her down to lay next to him.

"That is not a good idea." She shook her head as she looked back at him. "It would be best if you took the potion along with everyone else, though I don't know how well it will work on you."

"Potion?" He asked as he caressed the skin of her neck.

"I've made a potion that will erase the memories of me from the school. That way, I'll have little impact on the timeline. It would be best for your future if you forgot too."

"No." His voice turned cold, and his hand shifted to grasp her throat. "You belong to her, Hermione, and I refuse to let go of what is mine. I must know my match exists."

She had her wand at his jaw in a blink, and he only grinned down at her. "It is going to be bad enough that I'll have to bide my time and wait for you to be born. Wait for you to be ripe. I can be patent, but 52 years is a long time."

"I'm not your girlfriend." She reminded him.

"We'll see. I'm going with you, and I am returning, but I want to see your time first. Do you think I have let you deflect my questions because I give up so easily?"

"I refuse to subject my time to another Voldemort." She snapped as she pressed the end of her wand more firmly into his skin.

"Going to kill me, Hermione?" He purred as he leaned down over her. "That wouldn't have any lasting effects on your precious timeline."

She bit her lip, knowing his death would be the only thing that could stop him. She would have to play smart. She would just need to slip him the potion without his knowledge. She lowered her wand and looked away as if she accepted defeat.

"Good girl." He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

Her eyes caught on the marble once more, and she rolled it between her fingers. "How is it possible?" She asked for many reasons, one of which was she wanted to distract him from thinking too hard about her quick change of mind.

"It is surprising that you are a pureblood without knowing." He reached out and brushed the marble, the spot he touched streaked with purple. "I figured you were a half-blood, maybe, but this will need to be investigated."

"Wouldn't be able to look into it till I get back." She sighed and dropped the marble, turning to shift out from his grasp. "We should start fixing the formula."

"I thought you would fight me more." He said, amused as he shifted to get off of her bed as well.

"Fight you?" She asked as she pulled their notes out of a hidden cubby, where they had started to keep them after a few close calls with their third roommate.

"This whole year, you have reminded me again and again that you are a mudblood. I understood it to be an important part of your identity. I didn't think you would so readily accept your true place."

She paused thoughtfully, facing away from him. "After everything else we've researched, it is a logical theory that outside data was incomplete. I don't believe that this idea of blood superiority has any merit, so it would be hypocritical of me to be distressed to find out that I have a different blood status than I thought." She turned back to him now that she was done lying. "I am upset and curious about how I could be pureblood without knowing. And when I get home, I am going to do a thorough investigation. Until then, I should focus on getting there."

"Your logic is one of the things I enjoy about you." He said as he got to his feet. "I've already calculated my travel, and now that we know that it was simply missing information, she can focus on your way forward."

It took them four days to reevaluate her formula with the new information. They each tested their theory with a move only a few moments into the future.

Hermione convinced Tom to wait until the night of the farewell dinner so that she could more thoroughly drug the whole school with her Forgetful Elixer. She even warned him not to drink anything at dinner so that he would think she had given up on the idea of drugging him.

Tomorrow when most of the school awoke, they would wake with no memory of her. When Tom wasn't looking at her, she also slipped the potion into the gravy on his plate along with a delayed sleeping draft. She needed him to fall asleep before she attempted the spell again.

To her delight, he was stumbling as they headed back to the dorm. The potions were taking effect, and she would finally be free of him. They were only feet from their door when he pushed her hard against the wall of the castle and kissed her with hungry raw desire for the second time.

He was drunk on her potions, and his control slipped enough that he bit her lower lip hard, making her cry out. Her mind churned with a mix of confusing fear, disgust, and need. She hated him and everything he stood for, but he was right in that he also understood her in a way no other soul ever had or would. She gave herself the moment of weakness, knowing everything would soon be put to rights.

Tom's hands slipped over her sides as he used his hips to grind her into the wall.

"Tom." She gasped as his mouth trailed from hers to her jaw and neck.

"I thought about destroying this many times." He said as he plucked at her necklace. "Sneak into your room and rip it off your neck."

"Why didn't you?" She asked, wondering if she would get a straight answer from him with his altered state.

"I dunno, little dove." He chuckled as he plucked at it again before his hand wrapped around her neck. "I started calling you that before I noticed it."

"What?"

"It's a little dove, and so are you. I couldn't take that away." His hand tightened on her neck.

"Tom, you need to get to bed. I don't think you're feeling well." She said as she looked around to see if they had any witnesses.

"I do feel…" He licked his lips as if he was searching for the right word. "...wrong." He agreed while nodding to himself, but still keeping the bruising hold on her neck.

"Right. Bed." His lips turned up, and he pressed his body against hers. "I think I would enjoy taking you to bed."

"Let's go. Take me to bed, Tom." She said because she needed him to get into his room before he passed out.

The predatory gleam in his eyes made her shiver, and he pulled her off the wall so that he could make good on his promise. She let him fall face-first on the couch and sighed with relief. She checked the time and rushed to banish any sign of her that she wasn't taking. She couldn't do anything about her dorm, but she hoped the castle would make it disappear once she left.

They had altered the formula to take her to five minutes after she had initially left, but only if she cast the spell at exactly ten that night. She stared at the clock as she gathered her focus and ran the numbers around in her head. She couldn't get distracted now that the rest of the plan had worked out so well.

As the clock struck ten, Hermione cast her spell. The familiar feeling of her heart speeding in her chest, this time the correct direction, made her dizzy, and she regretted the fact that she was standing this time. The landing was not going to go well for her.

When the surge stopped, she crumpled to the floor and retched on violently on the carpet.

"Well, that sucked." She said knowing the spell had worked; she could only hope she landed in the right place.

"Drink this." Tom held a bottle to her lips, and she downed it without thinking.

As the symptoms started to clear, her eyes went wide with horror as she looked up at his smiling face.

"You've been a very naughty little dove.”


	4. This is New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

"You've been a very naughty little dove," Tom says in a way that made her feel as if he was somehow proud of her.

"Why waste a potion on  _ her _ ?" Draco asks from a short distance away, but Hermione was still too shocked to be looking into Tom's eyes to understand. "Father said they were quite valuable."

"How are you here?" She asked as her world whirled in a completely different way.

"You drugged me." He tapped a finger against her nose as he spoke each word.

"To keep you from endangering the people I love." She finally pushed out of his arms and got to her feet. She was feeling a lot better than she had after her last trip through time, and she suddenly remembered the potion. "What did you give me?" She looked up at Draco. Hermione remembered him saying something about the potion. "What did he give me?"

"Don't talk to him." Tom snapped as he placed himself between the two students. It seemed he had grown used to Hermione speaking with him alone.

"I'll talk to whomever I want;  _ I  _ belong here." She pointed out and turned back to face Draco.

"Where do you think my loyalty is in this situation, Granger?" Draco crossed his arms over his chest and just sneered at her. "You, or the pureblood?"

She opened her mouth to point out that Tom was a half-blood and was the pureblood, but then realized she was still bound to keep Tom's secrets, and she didn't like the idea of Malfoy knowing she wasn't a muggle-born after all. What would he do?

"Good girl," Tom said as if he could read her thoughts, he cupped her cheek and made her look at him. "It seems someone important has been working on a cure for Temporal Sickness over the last fifty or so years."

It made sense he wouldn't want to have to deal with the weeks of fatigue he had witnessed with her. But that meant that Voldemort had sent enough potions through Draco to cure both of them. After so many years, why would he care about her well being? She got light-headed as she thought about what it could mean. She didn't like it.

"How did you get here?" She breathed as she had to work to calm rising panic.

"I told you I wanted to see your time." He reminded her as if that answered her question.

"But I-"

"After you mentioned the ridiculous idea of me forgetting about you, I made a few contingency plans, including keeping the antidote to your memory potion on hand. When I realized something was wrong with me, I took it."

"How did you beat me here?" She narrowed her eyes.

"I had planned to land a day ahead of you; I wanted to do a bit of exploring before you arrived." He tapped her nose again. "You messed up that plan as I hadn't counted on the sleeping draft. I landed only an hour ago."

"Why are you telling her any of this, Sir?" Draco asked, he probably wondered at how close his pureblood friend was standing to her.

Tom sighed and glanced back to Draco, only hesitantly giving Hermione space. She used it to clean up the sick on the floor and collect her books and papers into a neat pile. Hermione was about to take her work towards the room she had become comfortable using when she realized that door shouldn't exist. She stared at it for a long moment.

"Hermione is mine. She is bound to me, and will tell no one of my plans or actions."

"How did you pull that off?" Draco sounded gleeful at her entrapment.

"None of your concern. All you need to understand is you will keep your hands off of her."

"I don't want to touch some mudblood."

"This is going to be a problem." Hermione interrupted and glanced back towards Tom. "Both the Headmaster and Harry know your real name."

"So?" The two Slytherins turned to look in her direction, and she pointed to the neatly scribed Tom Riddle on the dorm room door.

"But, I'm Head Boy." Draco frowned.

"Tom hasn't officially graduated yet," Hermione explained. "And he was Head Boy."

Tom's face went blank in the way it did when he was working on a plan. "How often does anyone enter this room?"

"My friends are going to visit me."

"And this  _ Harry _ is your  _ friend _ ?" He asked as he already saw Harry as a threat.

"Potter and Weasley are her  _ only _ friends." Draco mocked. "Ronald Weasley." He added that, as he understood, a second male name would get her into more trouble with the dangerous figure.

"Plus, I'm sure the castle will inform the Headmaster that you are here, even if you don't attend class."

"I can handle Dippet." He waved his hand dismissively.

"Dippet died years ago. Headmaster Dumbledore may be a bit more of an issue for you."

"Dumbledore?" Tom hissed, and she was happy to see his knuckles turn white as he clenched his fists.

"We've been trying to get the old coot out for years, Sir." Draco was happy to have someone dislike the Headmaster as much as his family did.

"An illusion to cover the name," Tom said as he pulled his wand and changed Tom Riddle to Corvus Black.

"Making yourself into one of the Sacred 28?" Hermione mocked as she rolled her eyes. "I think both Harry and Professor Dumbledore know what you look like," Hermione added though she wondered why she was helping, she should just let him get caught.

"Who are you?" Draco suddenly asked as he looked back and forth between Tom and Hermione.

"What did daddy tell you?" Hermione asked curiously.

"He was told an important friend of his father would appear in his room, and he was to give the potions to him."

"Please tell him, I want to see if he can get any whiter," Hermione said sweetly.

"Do you think the Dumbledore would remember this face in detail after so many years?" Tom asked with a frown. "And why would your friend know me at all?"

Hermione looked down, she knew Dumbledore had started to take Harry on trips in his memory the year before, but she wasn't about to tell Tom they were working on ways to defeat him.

"Little Dove, you know something." Tom was close to her again, his fingers pushing her chin, so she had to look into his eyes.

"Who are you?" Draco asked, sounding more nervous than before; he was a smart boy, he had to have started putting the pieces together.

"This is my time." She said instead of answering. "No more blackmail."

He sighed regretfully and looked over at Draco. "I realize. He is Abraxas' boy?" He asked as Draco watched them with growing discomfort.

"His grandboy." Hermione didn't look away from Tom.

"He's loyal to me?"

Hermione frowned and thought the question over. "I'm not sure Malfoys are loyal to anyone but themselves."

"My family is loyal, my Lord." Draco burst out as he guessed, correctly to who he was talking. "But to serve well, we must make our loyalty hidden. The mudblood is friends with someone very dangerous to you. I would be more than willing to explain everything I know about it. But she is our enemy."

"That is not news, Mr. Malfoy. Hermione has been quite upfront with her  _ disgust _ ."

"Disgust? She has no right!"

"I'll be in my room, let you two lovers figure this out," Hermione said and turned towards the Head Girl's dorm. She let the fact that she was finally home sink in. She couldn't help but smile as she thought of being able to see be herself again, even if it did bring a new danger with it.

"Am I in danger here, Hermione?" Tom asked from her door. She didn't turn to look and shook her head.

"I'm not your ally. I'm nothing to you here; only someone bound to keep your secrets. Ask Draco."

"You are still  _ mine _ , little dove." She could hear him getting closer as she stared at her bed.

"If I must flee the castle, I will do far more damage to the world for which you care. I would rather stay here and see how you shine in your natural environment. I want to help you discover the truth about your lineage, as I discovered mine in these halls. But if you do not help, and I am forced to flee for my own safety, I will find those you care for and make sure their last hours on earth are quite unpleasant."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. His words were spoken as if he whispered sweet nothings of one lover to another.

"A few easy glamor spells would probably be enough to distract Harry. I don't know how Dumbledor will react at having an extra mysterious student. But if you gather another gang of Slytherins around you, you will make my friends suspicious."

"Good girl." He brushed hair aside and kissed her neck. "I'll change my appearance, and we can send Draco to inform the Headmaster." He kissed her skin one last time before heading back into the common room.

Hermione took her time settling her books and notes back in their proper place. After keeping Tom at bay for months, she didn't know how long she would stay strong. He knew exactly which buttons to push to make her do what he wanted. But Hermione had support now, she was no longer alone, and that thought carried her out into the common room when she heard voices.

Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, and a man Hermione didn't know all stood around a boy who looked similar to Tom. He had kept his coloration the same, but his features were rounded enough to make him into another person. The work showed all the skill and precision of Tom's magic. He changed his features  _ just _ enough not to be himself.

"Miss Granger." The old Headmaster looked at her with his kind eyes. "Did Mr. Black appear as Mr. Malfoy describes.

"I have no idea, Sir." She shook her head. "I was in another room." She explained respectfully.

"I've never heard of a Corvus Black." The unknown man said thoughtfully. "I thought the Black line died out with Sirius."

"I have no idea, Sir," Tom said nervously. "I don't remember much about anything before I got here."

Hermione figured if that lie had worked for her, it would be fine for him.

"We don't know where he came from, but the school seems to have accepted him as a Student Albus." McGonagall pointed out. "And those  _ are _ Slytherin robes."

"If the school has accepted him, then it isn't for us to turn him away. But Mr. Black, we will be watching you. If you are anything but respectful to the staff and students of this school, there will be consequences."

"Of course, Sir." Tom nodded until the Headmaster and McGonagall left.

"I can take care of this, Severus. You don't get enough sleep as it is." The stranger said as he placed a warm hand on Snape's shoulder.

"Who are you?" Hermione couldn't stop herself from asking. He looked so familiar, but she didn't think she had ever seen him before. He was a beautiful man with delicate features and pale skin.

"Show more respect, Miss Granger." Snape hissed. "Professor Manacle will be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

When the new Professor turned his gaze on her, he gave her a smirk that made her want to burst into tears. It was Tom's smile. This man was maybe ten years older, but she could see it plain as day in the way he assessed her. 

"I hadn't realized you gave up the position, Sir." She forced herself to turn to Snape. How had Tom invaded the teaching staff, and why?

"That is none of your business Miss Granger, but needless to say, I go where the school needs me most," Snape answered stiffly.

"I'm sure she didn't mean any disrespect, Severus." The older Tom said in a light tone. "Part of the reason I am here is to help; you have a lot going on. Let me deal with the kids."

"Thank you, David," Snape said after a long glare at Hermione. "You'll find that Draco knows how to respect authority in a way that is much lacking in Gryffindor House." He said before leaving them alone with the older Tom clone.

Hermione felt her throat close up as the Professor watched her closely. She didn't know if she could even tell Tom of her suspicions. The man's eyes flicked to her neck, and a pleased smile appeared.

"Professor, did you need something?" Tom asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of his tone that another man was looking at Hermione for an extended amount of time.

"Not at the moment. I think the three of you should settle in for the night, and we can sort out your schedule later." He said as he finally turned to face the younger Tom. He gave him an assessing look. "Well done for now."

With that, he left, and Hermione turned to Draco.

"Do you know who he is?" She asked because Snape had seemed familiar, maybe Draco was too.

"Never met him before in my life. But if Uncle Severus likes him, he must be the right sort of person."

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her back on the two Slytherins. "I'm going to bed. It seems like it's going to be a busy day tomorrow."


	5. Dark of Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

That night Hermione slept fitfully. Every small sound and shift in the air seemed to wake her. Her mind wouldn’t rest and allow her some short reprieve. On full alert, her brain was waiting for one of the Toms to do something awful.

It was after one in the morning when she heard the sound of a door opening followed by hushed voices. She couldn’t tell what they were saying, but she was awake and ready in seconds. She slipped a robe over her nightgown and pushed her feet into slippers before she knew it she had her ear pressed against the door to see if she could hear what they were saying.

One of the voices was slightly deeper than the other, and she had guessed it was both Toms, so he was already plotting with his older self. It wasn’t a surprise. It wasn’t long before she heard them move towards the outside door, it opened, and then the suite was silent once more. Hermione peaked out of her room and found the common space empty. They must have left together.

She chewed on her bottom lip a moment before she headed towards the door to the hall. If they were plotting, it wasn’t good news for her friends; she needed to know how dangerous the situation was even if she couldn’t tell anyone else.

Hermione used a disillusionment charm on herself before slipping out into the hall as quietly as possible. She followed the pair at a distance and wished she had Harry’s invisibility cloak. The older Tom boldly led his younger self right out the front gates and down the path towards Hogsmead. Hermione shivered and pulled her robe around her more securely to battle the chilly Scottish night.

Her heart was racing in her chest as she followed them right to the door of the Three Broomsticks. The usually lively pub was closed at that hour, but that did not stop the older man from opening the door and heading inside.

Hermione peaked in the front window and saw the two she had fallowed sitting with a third head of dark hair. His back was to her, but she frowned all the same as he had Tom’s posture. But that wasn’t possible. She understood that there could be two Toms in the timeline, but was he so reckless as to gather more of himself in one place.

She found a back way into the pub and unlocked the door with a quick spell. She slipped into the kitchen and made her way towards the patron area. It was a saloon-style swinging door that left a two-foot gap at the bottom. Hermione knelt and crawled under thinking it was best if no doors started to move where the Toms could see them.

She crouched behind the bar and moved as close as she could without moving into sight. Disillusionment charms weren’t perfect, so it was best not to rely on them when spying.

“...you two are stationed here, but there are others?” One of the younger figures was asking. She figured it was the Tom from the past just by the question.

“We have two at the Ministry, but the Primary and the Diary run things behind the scenes.” The other younger one said.

Hermione’s mind ran over the implications of his answer; two at the Ministry and another two behind the scenes. Add that to the three sitting just beyond the bar; it would mean there were seven Toms now running around. She took a moment to let that number skin into her thoughts. Seven Toms.

“I always planned to make six, for the magical empowerment of seven, where is the last?”

“We thought about it after the return, but Diary suspects we may have accidentally created one back in the 80s. We are working to be sure before we risk splitting into eight.”

Hermione fidgeted under the bar as she tried to understand. He had planned to make something that ended with there being multiples of himself. She had never heard of such magic. She wondered what sort of Dark Magic would do such a thing.

“You call each other by the name of the object, so who are you, David Manacle?”

“David Rew Manacle.” The older one said lightly. “I’m the Ravenclaw Diadem, and this is the Gaunt Ring, publicly known as Nat Ginrug.”

“Diadem and Ring for short.” The other explained.

“Diary can explain it all much better than we can. He was the first to return.”

“How exactly did any of you manage this?”

A chair pushed out from the table before Ring spoke. “Diary can explain better than us. He discovered the path himself.”

“You go ahead and take him to Diary now,” Diadem said as she could hear him moving closer. “I need to collect something before heading to my office.”

“Be careful; it has been a while since any of us have had to deal with it alone.” Ring answered, and Hermione frowned. Why were they suddenly being so vague?

She heard footsteps heading up the stairs and assumed it was the pair heading to a room to leave by floo. Why wasn’t the Diadem moving? She bit her lip hard to keep herself still in the silence left behind.

Nothing happened until the sound of a far off door closing rung broke the calm.

“Would you like a drink before we go?” The man asked, and Hermione held her breath on the off chance he wasn’t talking to her. “We thought it best if Tom didn’t know you were there. I don’t think he is quite ready to share you just yet.”

Hermione found herself fidgeting with the bird at her neck. It was becoming less likely he wasn’t talking to her, but she could hold out hope, couldn’t she?

“Are you coming out, little dove, or are you going to make me come get you?” He asked with dark promise in the timber of his voice.

She whimpered and slowly pushed to her feet. “How did you know?” She asked as she tried to smooth her hair.

The man looked at her with fond amusement. “We like to keep some secrets to ourselves.”

“I must assume this means you never fallow my advice and forget all about me.” She said as she had held out a bit of hope, Tom would do the smart thing, if not the right thing.

“You don’t understand yet what you are to us, Hermione.” The man explained calmly. “It has been hard enough waiting until now to take more direct action in retrieving you.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier if you didn’t know what you were waiting for?”

“And risk damaging you?” He asked with a frown then shook his head. “No. You are far too precious.”

“What are you?” She had understood enough of the conversation to know he wasn’t exactly human, that he was somehow a part of Tom, but also completely separate from him.

“Best, you don’t know that quite yet. Not until you are ready to work with us instead of against us.”

“You’re as delusional as your younger self if you think that is  _ ever _ going to happen.”

“We’ll see, little dove. Are you coming out, or are you going to make me come get you?”

“I’ll just go back to my room,” Hermione said as she backed towards the kitchen door.

“We need to talk, Hermione. You are coming with me to my office one way or another.” He said as he drew his wand.

“I can’t think of a single thing about which we need to talk.” She shook her head as she drew her wand.

“We’ve had time over the last four years to collect information that is of interest to you.” He said with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “But, the file is in my office.”

“Four years? Why not fifty?” She asked, still backing away.

“It’s impossible to research someone’s bloodline when that person has not yet been born.”

Hermione stopped and bit her lip. “I don’t care about my bloodline.” She lied and stood tall. She could do her own research.

“You don’t care that your parents have been lying to you since the day you were born?”

“You’re the one who’s lying.” She shook her head. She would not believe any version of Tom over her parents. They were good people that didn’t quite understand magic. There was no way they could be keeping something that important from her.

“I have proof, Hermione.”

She rolled her lips into her mouth as she considered his words. Her free hand moved to play with her necklace as she thought. When Diadem’s eyes flicked to the jewelry, she stilled and tucked it into her dress. Best not to temp any of the Toms to take it away from her.

She realized then that she hadn’t seen any of her friends since returning, and it was best not to tell them she was ever gone. Her trip into the past was much too entangled with secrets she was bound to keep for Tom.

“Fine.”

“Come here, little dove, I’ll transport us. One needs special permission to enter the compound.” He said as he opened his arms to her.

“Compound?” She asked as she hesitantly moved around the bar and allowed him to wrap himself around her.

“You’ll see.” He promised, and with a turn on the spot, she felt the very uncomfortable feeling of being pulled through a garden hose.

She had pressed herself into his chest as they landed on the front walk of a large house.

“Still better than traveling through time.” He commented as he held her to him in a possessive way.

“Yes.” She agreed and pushed herself free after a moment. She looked around them and found there were two smaller houses in the area as well.

“Welcome to the Riddle Compound. We all live here when not out working for the cause.” He explained as he took her hand.

“You all. The five people things and Voldemort.”

The man chuckled but didn’t correct her. She had hoped that belittling whatever he was would get a more informative reaction.

Once inside the main building, Diadem led directly up a set of stairs and into the first door on the right-hand side. The inside of the house was well lit and crafted with rich colored wood. She had to admit it had a much homier feel than she had expected from Voldemort.

The office was lined with books; everything was still neat and organized. The room was filled and warm, but sort of gave off a showroom vide instead of a lived-in space.

Tom’s bedroom had always been the same, and she was somehow comforted by the similarities.

“Tom’s here somewhere?” She asked as her eyes subconsciously scanned the titles on the walls.

“He’s meeting with the Primary and the Dairy.” Diadem agreed as he let her explore.

“The Primary is what you call Voldemort.” She glanced back at him for confirmation, and he nodded.

“So if you have a literal army of yourself, why haven’t any of you made any bigger moves. Most of the wizarding world still doesn’t believe Voldemort is back.”

“Many reasons, one of which was we were waiting for you. We couldn’t change your course and bring you into our hold until after you traveled back on your own. And if we made a move and you were damaged or killed, we would not be pleased.”

“So why attack the World Cup?” She asked. She had gone with Ron’s family along with Harry. In the chaos of the attack, she had been hurt as she got separated from her friends. A Death Eater, she still had not identified, had broken her wrist when he realized she was Potter’s Mudblood. She rubbed her wrist as she remembered how scary it had been. She had thought he would kill her.

“That wasn’t us. We were still organizing and had not yet revealed ourselves to most of our followers. Macnair has since been punished, by the way.” He said as he motioned to her wrist with his head.

She tucked her hands behind her back and blushed at how closely they must have been watching her.

Diadem sighed and moved towards her. He looked down into her eyes as his fingers brushed over her reddened cheek.

“You were made for us, Hermione.” He said as he looked down into her eyes. “You are our match, and we will protect you now.”

“If you have his memories, then you must remember how much I  _ loved _ being called your match.”

The side of his lips twitched, and he shook his head. “We are master manipulators little dove; we know exactly how to read what people want.” His hand slid down to her neck as he continued to look into the depth of her eyes. “And you, my sweet little thing, want the danger that is Tom Riddle.”

"Do you think I'm suicidal?” She mocked but did not try to pull away from his gaze.

“I think you are a little masochist with a praise kink.” His knowing look made Hermione flush red and jerk away from him.

“W-what?!” She stuttered, not remotely knowing how to respond to such a claim.

“But, there is time to enjoy that after we have built some trust.”


	6. Dangerous Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Hermione just stared at Diadem as her brain didn't like the implications of what they had planned for her. "D-do you think I'm just going to let you all pass me around?" She asked frowning.

The idea of coupling with one Tom Riddle had been terrifying, but they somehow expected to talk her into being with all seven of them? What kind of woman did they think she was?

Diadem sighed and shook his head. "I wouldn't worry about that just yet. I am sure you wish to see the proof I promised?" He asked as he moved away from her and around a tidy desk.

"Proof that my parents lied to me." She confirmed as she watched him pull a thick file from his desk.

The tab on the top was neatly labeled in clean type print  _ Granger, Hermione _ . She could see several other folders within it, and he pulled out one marked  _ Bloodline Investigation _ . The exact type made her frown as it seemed to trigger an alarm of some kind in her head. She shook it off as she had no idea why that would worry her out of all the things in the room.

He held the folder out, and she took it before settling in to one of the leather chairs from the pair that sat on her side of the desk. She opened it to find copies of her mother's medical records proving that Hermione was the daughter of Bethany Granger (Rosier).

They also had a record from when she was five, and she had an appendectomy. Hermione was b negative, which meant she could only receive blood from another b negative or an o negative. Since both types are rare, the hospital asked her parents to donate blood, and the records showed they used Thomas Granger's blood during his daughter's surgery. The likelihood that he wasn't her biological father was nearly zero.

"So you've proven they're my parents," Hermione said, looking up at Diadem before continuing.

"Yes. We are comfortable in saying Bethany and Thomas are your biological parents."

"So, what have they been lying about?"

"Think Hermione. You are a pureblood, which means so are they." His lips curled into a honey-sweet curve. He looked ready to eat her.

She turned back to the file. She knew Diadem was right, but she would prefer not to see the gloating expression. She had never met any of her extended family; she had been told both sets of grandparents had passed before she was old enough to remember.

First, she found files on her father's birth. His parents were Hector and Lillian Dagworth-Granger. As of the date on the record, it seemed that Lillian was even still alive.

"I know this name, Hector Dagworth-Granger." She said more to herself than Diadem.

"He was a founding member of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers."

"Right. Slughorn asked if we were related. I told him no." She said as he looked at the documents that proved that the man was, in fact, her grandfather.

"He was a distinguished pureblood."

"He disowned my father for not having magic." She guessed and looked up at Diadem.

"Correct."

"Both my parents are Squibs."

"Correct, but it gets even better." He motioned back to the file.

Next, she looked at her mother's parents. There was a clear link that her mother was one Vinda Rosier, another pureblood witch of a considerably distinguished line. Her file showed an arrest and claimed the woman had given birth and later died at Nurmengard Castle.

"The warden took her in and raised her until it was clear she was Squib. After that, she had an anonymous benefactor that helped her graduate and go on to college."

"There isn't anything about my grandfather." Hermione frowned as she tried to digest the fact her mother was born in a wizarding prison.

"Yes, well, Vinda was never married. There was a widespread rumor about who the father of her child was, but we wanted to keep that file to only things we could prove."

"Who do you think my grandfather was? Why was Vinda sent to Nurmengard? It doesn't say here."

"Did it ever occur to you that your mother's maiden name was listed in the Sacred 28?"

"Yes. I thought she could have been from an offshoot of the family possibly, but nothing so recent." Hermione admitted. "Is there a reason you are keeping my maybe grandfather's name from me?"

"Vinda was one of the closest acolytes to a man named Gellert Grindelwald." Diadem watched her closely for a reaction to the name.

She realized then the real reason they hadn't included the man in her file. They wanted to watch her exact reaction to the possibilities of being related to another infamously dark wizard.

Hermione wet her lips and sat back in the comfortable chair. "How sure are you?" She asked softly. 

The rest was well documented; she couldn't deny that her parents were both Squibs and lied to her about it. Before she had gotten her letter, it would have been the law; they wouldn't have had any reason to expose a muggle child to the magical world. But they should have explained the moment they found out she was a witch.

"Only about 80%." He admitted as he continued to watch her.

"How much time do I have before I need to be back at the castle?"

"We should be back before six. It is a little after three now." He answered plainly.

Hermione pushed to her feet and left the office without another word. She thought about taking the file with her, but she didn't need it, she had an excellent memory for such things.

"Where are you going, little dove?" Diadem called as he followed her out.

As she headed down the stairs, she ran straight into a pair of Toms who seemed to be a little older than her. They looked down at her with pleased expressions, and one reached out to steady her before she fell.

"Ah, Hermione, glad to see you've finally joined us." The other said. They had both lightened their hair a few shades, and blue eyes looked down at her instead of black. They had also grown their hair out to different lengths to add to the illusion they weren't all the same person.

"I haven't joined anything." She snapped as she glanced up the stairs to find Diadem heading towards her. She felt trapped between the three.

"Locket, Cup, she just found out about Grindelwald, I would give her space." The oldest of the three said, and the two in front of her parted to let her pass.

The one with the longest hair lightly grasped her wrist as she passed, she looked at him more closely ready to give him a cutting remark when she realized he was wearing Auror robes.

"When you are ready, we will be here." He said as he looked into her eyes.

One of the Toms was an Auror. She closed her eyes and didn't respond. With another breath, she pulled out of his grasp and headed for the front door. No-one stopped her as she pushed herself out in the chilly night air. It was only then that she remembered she was wearing a nightgown and robe.

She doesn't know how long she stood there shivering as she stares up at the moon when the weight of a warm cloak that smelled like Tom was placed on her shoulders.

"Do you want to go see them now?" Diadem asked as he moved up next to her. She knew he was pleased with himself, but was working hard not to show it.

"I do." She admitted as she continued to watch the sky. "They should have told me. Is it possible my mother knows who her father is?" She asked, wondering what questions she would ask them.

"It's probable. She had a limited relationship with Vinda before the woman died. Nurmengard is not a kind place, though not quite as draining as Azkaban."

"Grindelwald is still alive right?" She asked because she was only mostly sure he was.

"He is and still locked away for everyone's safety."

"Would he know?"

"You wish to visit him?" Diadem chuckled.

"Maybe."

"Rumor is there is only one person he will allow to see him. Many reports over the years have tried to get interviews, but he refused to leave his cell for anyone but the single person on his list."

"Who's that?" Hermione asked, curious to spite herself.

"Albus Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore is the one who defeated him." She frowned and shook her head; she didn't know if she wanted to begin to unpack that kind of situation. "I'm going to visit my parents." She added, and after a moment, she started to head down the path to the gate.

"I'm coming with you." Diadem followed behind.

"Do you think I want any of you near my parents?"

"Do you think I plan to let you run wild?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I've been playing with the idea of erasing their memories and sending them to a far off land to keep them safe from Voldemort." She admitted.

"We don't wish to hurt you, Hermione, they are safe."

"You want to control me, what better way than those I love?" She snapped.

He grabbed her roughly by her bicep and turned her to face him. "We want to own you completely." He hissed as he looked down into her eyes. She saw the intensity that always frightened and mesmerized her, even in the dark of the night.

"Why would I let you anywhere near a weakness of mine?" She glared back at him.

"First of all, you do not have a choice. I am not letting you out of my sight. Second, your parents are safe; we realize that hurting those you love will only drive you away from us. We can't have you the way we want without your full participation."

"You realize then that those people I love include Harry Potter?" She snapped just to see his reaction. His hand tightened around her arm, and she thought she might have a bruise there the next day.

"We are working on that issue." He said, not seeming pleased in the least. "You are the only reason that boy isn't dead already."

She blinked up at him as she felt a bit dizzy. Diadem ran his hand softly down her cheek as he gazed at her and worked to calm himself.

"I'm never going to be the witch you want." She glared up at him, why couldn't any of them understand?

"By all that is magical, little dove." He sounded exasperated, "You already are the witch we want." He grumbled between clenched teeth. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers. "You're smart enough to keep up, powerful enough to burn the world, with a dark streak that only needs a little tending."

"I don't want any of you." She cut back even though they both knew there was a growing part of her drawn to him. It wasn't just past Tom either, all of the new Toms seemed to speak to that same part of her.

"We have all the time in the world to show you you are wrong." He brushed his lips softly against hers and drew back marginally.

She followed the warmth of his lips before she knew what she was doing, and he surged forward to capture the kiss he only teased a second before. Her brain stopped working for the moments when his hands traveled to the back of her neck. He pulled her against him, keeping her and dominating her in a way that left her breathless and wanting more.

Only once he had thoroughly plundered her mouth did he pull back and again look into her eyes.

"Do you still wish to see them tonight?" He asked, and when she only nodded as she had not yet found her voice, he pulled her into him and Apparated them both to her childhood yard.

"I couldn't get us in." He remarked with a frown.

"I've warded the house." She answered and bit her lip as she looked him over. "Probably better if you stay out here." She said, and his eyebrow rose with obvious disapproval.

"How do I explain, you?"

"I'm your ride."

Hermione sighed and chewed on her lip. "I won't say a thing; the whole point is you and them." He added while unable to keep the glee from his face.

Hermione took his hand as she opened the back door and let him into the cozy kitchen. Diadem moved around the area slowly and examined every item with a scientific curiosity. Hermione wondered if it was safe to leave him alone there.

"Don't do anything awful." She said as she headed towards the hall. It was the middle of the night, and she knew she would be waking her parents, but as her thoughts shifted back to the file on how both of them had been born into the magical world, her anger drove her on.

She slammed their bedroom door open, and the moment she saw them shifting in bed, she growled.

"Why didn't you tell me?!"

Her parents looked up at her sleepy and confused.

"Why did you pretend not to know how anything worked? I stopped bringing you to Diagon Alley for supplies because you were acting so overwhelmed by everything! And you wouldn't let me fix my teeth as if you didn't believe magic was reliable!"

"Sweet Pea?" Her father started groggily. "What is this all about? Why aren't you in school?"

"You know someone asked me if I was related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, and I said NO!" She screamed the last word and both her parents went very still. "You made me into a liar, just like YOU!" She spun on her feet and headed back down the hall. She needed a moment as angry tears threatened to spill over her cheeks.

She headed for her bedroom only because she did not want to have this fight in front of any version of Tom.

It was a few minutes before her mother knocked on her door frame. She stood in the hall wrapped in her old robe, looking for all the world like any other muggle.

"Your father is putting on some tea." She said, calm in the face of Hermione rage. "We thought it best if I could explain his-"

"His?" Hermione whirled on her. "HIS? Do you think you're immune, or were you counting on the fact I didn't know about Vinda Rosier?"

Her mother went very still as she looked at her daughter and then physically swallowed and frowned. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she reached out to Hermione before dropping her arms.

"When we got married, we never thought, for a moment, we would have a magical child." She slumped in on herself. "We thought we could have a happy little muggle boy or girl and that we would never have to think about that world again."

"So, having me was so painful you lied to me?" Hermione felt it like a punch to the gut.

"No! Darling, no. But I'm a Rosier, and your father…" She trailed off. "You don't know how purebloods are."

"You think I don't know how they are?!" She snapped, wishing she could pull her hair out. "I've kept so much from you because I didn't want you to worry! Because I didn't think you would even understand! They think I'm a mudblood!"

Her mother winced at the slur. "It's better than them knowing you're not." She said softly.

"How is it better?"

"If your father's family would have found out we had a magical girl? We could tell by the time you were three how powerful you would become. They would have taken you from us and raised you as one of  _ them _ . We would have lost you forever. They would have worked to marry you off to some Malfoy or Nott."

It was Hermione's turn to wince.

Her father appeared then with a tray set for tea; unfortunately, Diadem was directly behind him.

"Can we come in, Sweet Pea?" He asked as he held up the tray.

Hermione sighed and slumped down on her bed as she thought over her mother's explanation. She thought maybe if she ignored Diadem, he would go away.

"David Manacle, at her service Mrs. Granger." He introduced himself to her mother. "I apologize for intruding on the family moment, but our student's safety is of the highest priority.

She glanced up to see her mother purse her lips and give him a polite nod as she shook his hand. She looked uncomfortable and untrusting of the newcomer.

"How much did you hear, Mr. Manacle?" She asked stiffly.

"I already know a lot about Miss Granger's bloodline."

"And what do you plan to do with that information?" Her mother asked coldly.

"Mom, I'm of age, it doesn't matter."

"I would still be very curious to know why Mr. Manacle cares about our daughter's  _ bloodline _ ." Bethany Granger could see right through Diadem's manufactured charm, and she loved her mother a little more for it.

He put his hands up, the picture of friendly calm. "I'm just here to support your daughter; I don't have any stake in the information."

"There are families who would pay a great deal to know there is a girl of marrying age with Hermione's…" Her father handed her tea first. He had settled the tray on her desk, and though he wasn't acting as suspicious as her mother, he did not seem to like Diadem's intrusion any better. "...pedigree."


	7. Secrets & Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

"...pedigree."

There was a silence that followed Hermione's father's words, and she couldn't bring herself to look at any of them. Her parents had lied to her because they worried they would lose her if anyone found out. Her mother made it sound as if she would be in some kind of danger of being kidnaped. Did purebloods do that? Kidnap prospective brides for their sons.

"I can assure you I will keep your daughter safe from anyone who would make such a claim against her will."

"Mr. Manacle, let me be clear." Her mother started as she stared down the man in front of her. "I don't know you. My daughter has never even mentioned you before. Now you show up in the middle of the night, and aI can't help but think this all has something to do with you."

"I'm Hermione's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I'm new this year. As she may or may not have told you, the school has a bit of an issue keeping professors in my position."

"Brand new and the first night back at school, my daughter comes rushing home with information we've kept her safe from for seventeen years. What's your Blood Status Mr. Manacle?"

"Mother, that is rude." Hermione snapped. "Professor, I need to speak to my parents alone for a few minutes. Please wait for me outside. They don't trust you." That fact that neither did she Hermione felt was firmly implied.

Diadem let out a slow calming breath as she knew very well he didn't like anyone telling him what to do. But if he was honest in the least about his motivations, he would respect her request.

He gave each of them a tight nod before heading down the stairs. The room was silent until they heard the back door close.

"Tell me everything." She said as she looked back and forth between her parents. "It's time, I know."

Her father looked at his wife before his jaw set, and he turned back to Hermione.

"You seem to know most of it already." He sighed as he looked at his daughter as if he wished her father could wrap her in a cloud so the world could never touch her. "You know everything but the most dangerous part."

"Mom's dad?" She asked, with a calmness she didn't know she had left.

"Those who believed in his cause will see you as a valuable commodity. His enemies will try and hurt you through him."

"So it's true?" Hermione finally looked up at the group of them. "My father is..."

Her mother's whimper cut Hermione off from saying the name aloud.

"I've never spoken to him directly," Bethany said as she looked anywhere but at her daughter. "The family who raised me would never say his name in my presence, sort of how the world now thinks of You-Know-Who."

Hermione blinked as she heard the common wizard phrase drop from her mother's lips.

"I tried to see him once when I was eighteen; he refused to speak to  _ the muggle _ ." Her mother looked up at her with glassy eyes. "You can't tell anyone about this. Hermione, I know how you are, you can't go and try to see him."

"You know what?" Hermione stood and held her chin high. "You can't tell me what to do. You should have trusted me. You should have told me. I would be in a lot less danger now if I would have known back then. I need some space. I'm done here."

She set her tea aside and walked out of the room. She was over their conversation and refused to allow them to spew any more of their protective bunk. Because of them, the most honest relationship in her life was with Tom Riddle.

When she made her way out into the backyard, she turned away from Diadem and headed towards the gate. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he caught up to her on the sidewalk.

"It would be best if we headed back to the castle. We wouldn't want Tom to discover you've been out with someone."

"Tom doesn't own me." She said as she slumped and slowed her pace. Could she even tell her friends about any of it without revealing Tom's secrets, and breaking her vow? She was still alone. She wondered if she would ever be able to have anyone good in her life again.

Diadem wrapped his arms around her, rested his chin on her head, and pulled her to a stop. She allowed herself to rest in his arms for a long moment. She was just so tired.

"When the time is right, Tom will return to his own time, and before that happens, he will better understand what you need."

"I need you all to let me live my life away from you." He turned her in his arms so he could look down at her.

"I believe there is some part of you that still thinks that. But I've seen you, through Tom's eyes, become..." He trailed off and shook his head as his fingers traced down her cheek. 

"I don't want to be with a genocidal psychopath." She growled at him trying to pull out of his grasp. "And I don't want a partner that gets off more on my fear than my love. And I definitely don't want to bind myself to a whole flock of them."

"Really?" He hissed as he held her fast and glared down at her. "I already know quite a few of your shameful little fantasies, little dove. You may need some guidance when it comes to your absurd martyrdom like morals, but don't for one moment think you don't already desire every one of us."

The next morning she could barely keep herself from bursting into tears when she saw Ron and Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table waiting for her. From their point of view, she had seen them yesterday on the train.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked as he looked up from his breakfast.

"Fine, just a very long night. You know Draco is Head Boy, and now I have another Slytherin boy in my dorm named Corvus Black." She shook her head; sure they would have heard about the mysterious new Head Boy.

"Yeah," Ron said as he loaded his plate. "Sounds freaky to me."

"Well, he's another Slytherin, so I'm just glad to get a break from them." She said, playing it all off as if it were the school rivalry that bothered her.

"Oh, that's awful." Ron shudders and shakes his head. "Nothing you can do?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

Hermione shook her head and fidgeted with the crystal bird as she looked down at an empty plate. A moment later, she started to collect items from the trays for her breakfast.

"Ron, thank you so much." She said with a big smile. She had been waiting for almost a year to thank him for the necklace. "It's beautiful."

"What is?" He asked, sounding confused as he looked at her again.

"The bird." She held it up to show him what she was talking about.

"I didn't give you that." Ron frowned and leaned for a closer look. "I didn't even know you liked doves."

"But the card was signed with an R." She defended as she grasped the tiny crystal pendant. She thought she might cry. If Ron hadn't given her the necklace, who had provided her the sole comfort for the last year?

"That's really weird," Harry said as the boys both looked as if they were trying to think of someone else who would sign the card with an R.

Hermione looked up at the staff table and found the Diadem was already looking at her. She knew the answer, but couldn't tell her friends. The only question was if the R was for Ravenclaw or Riddle. Had it been a personal gift or something from the whole lot of them. It didn't matter in the end. She made sure he could see her as she took the necklace off and set it on the table next to her plate.

"Hermione?" Harry asked as he watched her.

"If I don't know who it's from, we should ask McGonagall to check for curses." She said before shoving it into her bag.

"Probably smart. Voldemort could be targeting you guys to get to me."

"Exactly." Hermione nodded then let the boys take control of the conversation.

As the three of them headed to Potions, Ron slipped up beside her and hesitantly took her hand.

"I wish I would have gotten it for you." He said as he gave her a sheepish grin.

She smiled back at him and squeezed his hand. "Me too."

They were still holding hands as they entered the Potion's classroom. Snape had transformed the space back to how he preferred, and the three of them settled in at their usual table. A moment later, Tom took the free chair and smiled coldly at the other boys. His eyes lingered just a moment on where Ron and Hermione still held hands.

"Corvus Black." He introduced himself. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but Hermione is one of the few students I know."

"Didn't you meet, Malfoy?" Ron asked, looking skeptical.

"Yes, but his table is full, and he's a bit of a…" Tom leaned in and lowered his voice. "...prat."

Harry actually snorted and held his hand out to Tom. "I'm Harry Potter; it's nice to meet anyone who dislikes Malfoy."

Tom smiled at him and took the offered hand. "Nice to meet you, Harry." He said, holding onto him for just a bit longer than was necessary.

"How are you setting in? Must feel strange to find yourself here only in time for your last year."

Tom breathed and shook his head. "It is strange to be here, some things are quite jarring, and they don't seem, right? I don't have much memory of where I come from, but this place is different."

Throughout the class, Tom's attention was focused on Harry; they paired up as partners for the assignment, which left Hermione free to pair with Ron.

Ron moved closer and closer to her as they worked. He was attentive enough to pull her attention away from the disaster that had to be brewing across the table. The potion was complex and needed her constant attention to not blow up in their faces.

It wasn't until they were cleaning that Hermione looked at the other pair and found them standing closer than she would think was comfortable. What was Tom playing at? If he hurt Harry, she was going to  _ kill _ him.

"You guys are going to be late for Divination." She said as she tried to sound unaffected.

"Right." Harry blushed a little at Tom and gave him a shy smile. "What class do you have next?"

"Ancient Runes."

"You'll be with Hermione then; I'm sure she'll take good care of you," Harry said as he pat Hermione on the shoulder. "It was nice meeting you Tom, maybe not all Slytherins are so bad after all." He said with a chuckle.

"I think I chose the right Potions table," Tom answered with his usual charming mask, though she thought he might be putting it on a bit thick.

"See you at lunch, Hermione," Ron said, drawing her attention back to him just in time for him to kiss her cheek.

The two dashed off after that, leaving her standing alone in the hall with Tom and Draco, the only other students from Potions that were also in Ancient Runes. She turned on her heels without looking at either of them as she headed towards her next class. Hermione had meant to question Tom's behavior on their walk, but Ron's light kiss had ruined that idea.

Was Ron safe? In the past, Tom reacted quite severely when a boy would accidentally brush by her in the hall; what sort of nuclear rage would a purposeful kiss provoke? By the time Tom caught up to her, she had decided a good offense was her best defense.

They were in a stretch of the hall with no other students, even Draco was mysteriously missing, so it had to have been by design that he caught up to her then.

She took advantage of the privacy and shifted suddenly towards him to shove him bodily into the wall.

"What's your game with Harry?" She growled as her brows lowered, and she glared up at him. Tom had at least a foot on her, but she didn't care.

"Is it so difficult to figure out why I might be nice to your friends?" He asked calmly.

"I know flirting when I see it." She said as she shoved him hard in the chest.

"Do you? Because you looked quite shocked when the redhead kissed you." He worked to sound amused, but she could hear Ron's death in his tone.

"That is none of your business." She shoved one last time before allowing them both some space. She didn't want to be late for class, after all.

"Then what I do with Harry is none of yours." His smile showed teeth and did not look welcoming.

"If you hurt him, I  _ will _ hurt you." She threatened with one last glare before she turned to continue towards the class.

Tom grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back against his chest. She felt his wand at her neck a moment later.

"I think you've forgotten your place, my sweet little dove." He whispered as his lips brushed her ear.

"I think you've put too much stock in the fact I was trying to remain undercover." She said as she struggled against his hold as a cover for drawing her wand. He held her firm, but she succeeded in her purpose.

"Ahh, so you will require more training in this new time." He said as the hand on her arm squeezed painfully.

Hermione pivoted on the spot, and with a flick of her wrist, a bang sounded from her wand. The spell was quick and dirty, and Tom had a hand over his mouth where the spell had hit.

He let go of her arm and stared down at her. He dropped his hand as his tongue moved over the split lip she had just given him. His whole face was alight with hunger as he watched for her next move. Hermione did the only sane thing she could think of in the face of his expression; she ran.


	8. Miscalculation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Surprisingly Tom gave Hermione a bit of space after their altercation in the hall. He spent their shared classes, for which there were many, focused on work, or Harry if he was available. She tried to warn her friend off of the psychopath, but without being able to reveal any of his histories, she couldn't give any more reason than a bad feeling. It hadn't gone well.

Gryffindors had Defence Against the Dark Arts with Ravenclaws, so Hermione had been looking forward to a class where she wouldn't have to worry about Harry at least. It wasn't until after they had settled in that Hermione started to wonder what kind of Professor Diadem would make. He had to have been doing the job adequately, or he would lose access to the school.

"Welcome to NEWTs level Defense Against the Dark Arts. I cannot help but notice that you have not gotten a stable education in this class. The world seems to have a vendetta against the Professors of the course." Diadem said with a friendly smile.

Hermione could feel the class relax around her, and she understood, for the first time, how Voldemort had gathered so many to his side.

"As all of you should already know, I am Professor Manacle, and I hope to be here for many years to come. Though we only have this year together." Many of the students chuckled. "Today, I want to see where all of you are in your skill level. I've looked over your OWL, and most of you did surprisingly well, considering the Professor you had that year."

Anthony Goldstine raised his hand eagerly at this comment. "That's mostly thanks to Harry, Sir. He was really our teacher that year." He explained, which turned Diadem's attention to Harry with a smile.

"Really? You must be quite the prodigy, Harry."

Harry was ducking his head and shaking it. He hated getting singled out for anything but sports.

"Teaching is a skill that should be cultivated." He added, and it couldn't have been a better-chosen compliment. Harry brightened a bit. By focusing on passing on knowledge rather than the ability to fight the Dark Arts, Diadem gave him praise Harry could accept without feeling guilty for those they had lost.

"Today, I wish the class to break up into pairs so I can assess everyone's dueling skills. You should have been working on silent spells last year, but they can be quite tricky. Use whatever tactics feel right to you."

Hermione paired off with Ron leaving Harry to pair with Anthony so he could thank him for the kind words. She tried not to pay attention to anything but her opposite, Ron was as skilled in the practical aspect of Defence as Hermione. After losing his sister during their second year, he had been insistent that everyone needed to know how to protect themselves. She was glad he never tried to coddle her or any of the girls in their class.

The entire class treated the duels as formal, nothing so intense that spells flew wildly. During a break, Hermione noticed that Diadem was working his way through each pair in the class. He acted as if he wanted to get a feel for their strengths and weaknesses.

"Almost reminds me of Lupin," Ron said as he too watched their Professor.

"Yeah…" She agreed hesitantly. He wasn't supposed to be a capable teacher; it would only make getting rid of him that much harder.

"So, I was wondering if you would be interested in going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

"Are they starting the visits already?" Hermione looked at Ron curiously.

"The staff decided that there was no reason to restrict seventh years from visiting Hogsmeade on the weekends. You all are of age now." Diadem answered as he approached.

"Why wasn't I told about this?" Hermione asked insulted that she was not included as Head Girl.

"I don't know; I thought the Heads were given the task of making the signs," Diadem answered casually. "Maybe the boys didn't wish to bother you."

"Right." She said coldly.

"How are things coming along over here?" He asked as he looked first at Ron and then at Hermione.

"Sorry, Sir, we were just taking a slight break," Hermione said and then looked at her friend.

"Well, let's see what you can do, Miss Granger." He said, turning to her first. Ron shifted out of the way as Hermione squared off against their Professor.

He kept his expression blank as they exchanged their first volley of spells, but couldn't seem to keep the ever-growing smile as the spells continued. Hermione felt like a mouse being played with by the cat and started to get more aggressive in her work. She would not let them cut off as Tom had back in the past.

She almost jumped for joy when a slicing spell broke through his shield and caught his cheek, but she celebrated too soon as a shockwave doubled back and threw her against the far wall of the room.

"Hermione!" Ron was running to her side as she worked to catch her breath. The wind had been knocked entirely from her lungs. But her head seemed better than she would have expected from being thrown so far and forcefully.

She blinked up at Ron, who was hovering over her with worry but was soon replaced by Diadem. "Miss Granger." He sighed as he pulled her into a sitting position. His hands moved to her neck and head as he assessed for injury.

"What'd you do that for?" Ron was yelling, so angry he was turning a bit red.

"Mr. Weasley, you  _ will _ give me space," Diadem ordered firmly. "The cushioning charm on the walls seems to have held. I thought for sure you would have blocked that spell, Miss Granger," He said, sounding almost apologetic, though she knew it was an act. She was the only one who could see the pleasure in his eyes. "This is a lesson in not dropping your guard, even if you think you've won."

She didn't know what got into her, but Hermione reached up and brushed her finger over the scratch she had given him. The overblown spell was payback, and they both knew it. But also it made her feel a bit alive that he was still so willing to hurt her.

"We are going to speak after class, do you think you are alright to stand?" He asked as he moved to help her up.

"Just a little winded, Sir." She said as he ignored his help and got up on her own. Ron still looked livid. "I'm fine." She repeated as she looked at him.

"Harry, would you stay after as well, I have a proposition. The rest of you are dismissed." He called just as the bell signaled the end of class.

Why did he want to speak to Harry? She slowly moved to her things and gave Ron a reassuring smile as she worked on listening to what they were talking about. Unfortunately, the other students were being too loud for her to overhear.

"You sure you don't want to get checked out by the nurse?" Ron asked worriedly. "He shouldn't have done that."

"A real opponent would have done a lot worse." She said, shocked that she was defending Diadem.

"You're right." Ron agreed begrudgingly. "The guy just rubs me the wrong way." He explained and glared up at where Harry and the Professor were talking.

She put her hand on his arm and squeezed to reassure him. "But only after he threw me across the room."

"Hermione, you should have seen his face when you hit him, this wasn't about some lesson. It was weird."

"But I'm fine, Ron. And we have a date to look forward to this weekend?" She asked, trying to change the subject.

His expression brightened like the sun coming out from behind clouds. "Yeah. I've got something really special planned." He promised before kissing her on the cheek. He had to leave as the rest of the class filed out, and Hermione headed up to his desk.

"Thanks." Harry was saying as she approached. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Looking forward to what?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Professor Manacle is going to let me work as a TA for some of the younger classes." He said with a grin. "But only ones where it doesn't mess with my schedule." He put his hands up as if he knew Hermione would object. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She said, and took Harry's hand. "That sounds exciting. Congratulations." She said as she squeezed it. She didn't care that Diadem was watching their every move.

"Come to my office at lunch tomorrow Harry, and we will discuss the details."

With that, Harry left them alone, and Hermione was slow to turn and face her Professor. "You have earned the undying dislike of one Ron Weasley." She informed him stiffly.

"The Redhead?"

"Why do you all seem to call him that? How can Harry have a name, but Ron not?"

"Harry is well worth my attention." He said as he left out the part where he felt as if Ron wasn't.

She rolled her eyes and took a deep calming breath. "Just tell me now if you're planning to hurt him. Before I left, all Voldemort wanted was Harry's death."

"Not true, we haven't been trying to kill the boy in years."

"Right."

"In fact, we've never tried to kill him. The Primary spent nearly twelve years suffering so Harry would be chosen."

"Why?"

"Oh, little dove, I can't tell you that." He said, pretending to regret the fact.

"Speaking of doves." She pulled the necklace out of her bag and slammed it on the desk. "Here's yours."

"That one is yours; you are mine."

"Did you need something?" She nearly growled as she glared at him.

"To make sure I didn't do anything permanent. But you seem fine." Hermione turned her back on the smug expression before stomping from the classroom.

That Saturday, Hermione allowed Ron to escort her into Hogsmeade. They just walk around for a while, enjoying the weather before the real cold of fall had a chance to set in. She lets him do most of the talking as she enjoys his company.

She had been feeling so alone since coming back from the past. But Ron had a way about him that always made her feel at home, at least when he wasn't getting on her last nerve. The date was a nice break from a stressful period in her life, and she couldn't help but be thankful for the reprieve.

The Toms liked to talk about how she was attracted to his intellect and darkness. They always implied that she somehow got a thrill from the danger that he posed. It was true that her heart didn't race the same way when Ron was close. She didn't hear her blood thumping in her ears when he stole innocent kisses. But Ron was safe, and he was goofy and loved him.

Sunday morning Hermione was greeted by a grim-faced Harry at her door before she could even get down to the Great Hall.

"Something wrong?" She asked as she took in his posture.

"He's okay." Harry started, and Hermione noticed then that there was a lack of Ron at his side.

"What happened?" She asked as a new stone dropped in her stomach.

"Ron was sleepwalking last night, and he kind of tripped over the balcony into the common room."

"Ron doesn't sleepwalk," Hermione said and started to fidget. How likely was it that he began to the night of their first date, and it had nothing to do with Tom?

"But he's alright?" She asked as she remembered how Harry had started the interaction.

"A few broken bones, he'll be in the Hospital Wing a couple of days max."

"We should go-"

"Hermione, he's fine. I just saw him, and they have him on a pain potion that is making him a bit loopy."

She let out a breath as she continued fidgeting. She wasn't hungry anymore, and she just wanted to figure out what Tom had done precisely. Was it a long-lasting curse, or was it a warning shot?"

"Want to come with me to practice?" Harry offered in a tone that said he already knew the answer.

"I put off some work I need to get done for Monday." She answered, and he shook his head.

"I doubt it's due Monday."

"I didn't say that." She pointed out, and he laughed. "I'm not really hungry either." She added and chewed on her lower lip.

"I get it, want to go see him after lunch?" Harry asked as he reached out to take her arm.

"That sounds great." She said as she started to calculate where she would be able to track down Tom. She didn't want to make a big scene in the Great Hall, but it was Sunday, which meant after breakfast, he would go to the library.

She hefted her bag on her shoulder, and with one last goodbye to Harry, she headed to the library to stake out his usual table. Tom was nothing, if not a creature of habit. Half an hour after she had settled in, he approached the table to a pleasant smile on his face. As if he were surprised and pleased to see her.

"I doubted we would keep our usual date after all the snubbing." He said as he motioned to where she sat. It was true that in the past, she had spent Sundays with him working on their assignments and sometimes the calculation to return home. It had become routine to rely on him back then. But it only angered her that he could act so calm after nearly killing one of her friends.

She shot up from her seat and grabbed his arm to lead him back into a more hidden area of the library.

"How dare you." She hissed as she pushed him against a bookshelf.

"What have I dared to do now?" He asked as he kept his face arranged in smug ignorance. As if he had no idea that nearly killing Ron was something she would be upset about.

"What did you do to him?" She asked as she would not fall for his game.

"Do to who? You know you have to be more specific with such questions, little dove."

"Ron!" She nearly yelled, but she caught herself at the last moment.

"The redhead?" He scrunched his face looking even more confused. "I decided against taking my vengeance for that peck. I honestly feel sorry for the boy; he's not even remotely a worthy adversary."

"Oh, so I went out on a date with him yesterday, and he just  _ happened _ to start sleepwalking and fell off a balcony last night?"

"You did what now?" All humor left Tom's demeanor as he stepped closer to her.

"Like you didn't know."

"Do you think if I had known the boy would be breathing this morning?" He hissed as he crowded her against a bookshelf. "Did he…" He started as he looked over her face and down her body. "...t-touch you?" He asked, and for the first time, Hermione watched as Tom trembled with contained rage.

"You didn't know?" She asked as she realized he wouldn't be faking that kind of reaction.

His hand shot to her neck, and he pressed her back against the shelf. "Answer my question."

"Of course, he touched me. It was a date." She spit as her hands moved to his and tried to get herself a bit more air.

"No one is allowed to touch you but me. You know this." He growled. "I've tolerated the casual way you touch those boys in friendship. I know it is your way, and that it means nothing. But allowing a  _ boy _ to defile what is  _ mine _ on some  _ date _ is unacceptable."

"I. Don't. Belong. To. You."

Instead of answering her, he pressed forward and took her lips in a painfully hard kiss. He held her throat tight as his free hand roamed down to her hip and slipped under her shirt. She whimpered against his lips as she felt his hand move up the back of her sweater, and stilled when she felt his wand in his hand.

" _ SsSssshassSnaah _ "

She didn't understand the spell, she had no idea what he was saying, but her skin seemed to be heating from within. She pulled her mouth away from his and took in the limited air his hold would allow.

"What did you do?" She struggled for her wand, but Tom knew better this time it seemed and wouldn't allow her to shift enough to get it.

"Let someone else touch you, and see what happens now." He hissed and bit her ear hard enough to cause pain.

When he pulled back, she could see her blood on his lips. What had he done to her that her first thought was to lean in and lick it off? She ignored the intrusive thought and armed herself. She needed to start remembering to go into any conversation with Tom already armed.

She pointed at his face, ready to do damage if he moved. "Don't you ever touch me, or anyone I love, again." She demanded.

"No." He smirked at her and ran his tongue over the red stain.


	9. Attachments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Hermione was quiet at lunch and just listened to Harry talk about how his first week back at school was going better than he ever thought. He didn't seem too worried about Ron's accident, so she had to hope it was a one-time thing. When her hand accidentally brushed Harry's as they both reached for more potatoes, Hermione jerked back, expecting something awful like her best friend igniting on fire.

When nothing happened besides Harry looking at her with concern, she gave him a weak smile. "I didn't sleep well." She excused and forced out a breath.

"He's going to be fine, Hermione. You'll see. He told me you guys had fun yesterday." Harry mentioned seeming a bit reluctant.

"We did, but I don't think it is a good idea to let it go anywhere." She said, hoping that if she cut Ron off, Tom would leave him alone.

"Probably for the best." Harry's words surprised her. He gave her a rueful smile before he continued. "You know I love Ron, and I love you. But together?" He made a face. "I think that would only end in tears. You guys are too different. You need someone who will challenge you. Ron barely challenges himself."

Hermione sighed and had to admit that Harry made a few good points. But most of the guys at the school were intimidated by her or thought she was a freak. Maybe she had only fallen in with Ron because he wasn't afraid of her.

"Can you think of anyone that fits that profile? Or are you purposefully trying to keep me single."

"Corvus' pretty smart," Harry said just as Hermione was taking a drink and choked on her juice. She had thought Tom had been careful not to show her any attention in public, how had Harry seen his interest.

"I…" She didn't know what to say, so she focused on cleaning the juice mess.

"I realize he's been flirting with me," Harry added after a moment of silence. "And I think he's a cool guy, but…"

"You're not into that?" She asked tentatively. Hermione had seen the way Harry had responded to Tom's attention, and she had her doubts.

"Are you asking if I think I might be gay?" Harry asked in a lower tone because all they needed was for it to be publicized that 'the Harry Potter' was questioning his sexuality.

"Sort of, I guess?" She said, making a face at how lame she was being during the conversation. "I've noticed how you look at him."

"I think I might like both." He said, making his own face as if he wondered if he was somehow deficient.

"Liking both is valid," Hermione promised. "So, what is wrong with Corvus?" She asked, bringing them back to the original point.

"The same thing that is wrong with Ron and you. He's way too smart for me, and we don't have a lot of common interests…" Harry trailed off for a moment. "...and there might be someone else I like more?"

Hermione sagged in relief. She had been so worried that Tom would somehow ensnare Harry, and there would have been nothing she would have been able to do about it.

"Who?" She asked because seeing Harry happy with someone would make her world a little better.

"It's very new and confusing, and I'm not completely sure I am reading him right." Harry swallowed. "I don't want to mess it up."

"Okay, but once you're more comfortable, you'll tell me?" She asked with a smile.

"You'll be the first." He agreed with a sheepish grin. "Want to go see if Ron is lucid?" He asked playfully to show he was done talking about his love life.

"Sure. I'll feel better once I get eyes on him."

Once in the Hospital Wing, they found that Ron was up and working on his lunch. He grinned widely as he tried to swallow a big bite.

"You're looking alright," Hermione said as a little more pressure eased. His right arm and shoulder were bandaged as he tried to eat with his left.

She decided it was best to sit on his left side to lower the risk of harming him further.

"Yeah, it was the weirdest thing, but they say I should be out by dinner tomorrow." He waved off the experience like it was nothing. "They were a little worried about the sleepwalking, even had Professor Manacle come check me over for curses."

"Did he find anything?" Harry asked as he moved to the other side of Ron.

Hermione wondered if she should do her own check for curses as she took Ron's hand and quickly dropped it with a gasp. Both Ron and Harry looked to her with worry as she clutched the hand to her chest. Touching Ron had been like holding hot iron. She could still feel the burn.

She forced on a chagrined expression. "Static shock," She explained as she dropped the hand and hid it behind her back. With a glance at Ron's skin, it was clear only she suffered the ill effect. Tom's spell was only meant to punish her for doing something against his orders. But why hadn't it worked on Harry? Was the brief touch at lunch not long enough, or was it because it was an accident?

"I had a Walking Tick!" Ron said, sounding oddly gleeful.

"A what?"

"A Walking Tick is a magic bug that forces you to walk, in order to keep higher blood flow," Hermione explained.

"Yeah, so I guess they think I picked it up in town, and I was so hyped about our date it didn't need to do anything until I was fast asleep." He explained. "They're super rare, and Professor Manacle is giving me three Galleons for it."

Money explained his excitement, but she let out a groan as she realized her other mistake. Tom wasn't the only one who would take offense to her going out on a date with someone else. And Ron had asked her  _ in _ Diadem's class.

"Hey, I think I earned it, falling off a balcony and everything," Ron said defensively.

"Sorry. Not you, I just remembered an assignment I've left unfinished." She said, wondering how easily she could hunt Diadem down this time. She would make sure to be ready for him when she did. "I'm glad you're okay, Ron, but please be careful, for our sake." She said, making sure to include Harry so she could slowly pull away from Ron now that her interest would put him in danger.

He grinned at her indulgently as if her excuse was not only believed but one of the things he liked about her.

"I'll come to visit tomorrow with your homework." She added a moment later, which made him frown as she patted his covered leg. It seemed safe for her to touch him as long as it wasn't skin to skin contact.

The moment she was out of the room, she checked her hand. There were still burn marks on her skin where she had touched Ron, but they were slowly healing before her eyes.

Hermione spent the rest of the day walking around the castle, looking in places Diadem was likely to be. She kept her wand subtly at her side as she moved from area to area as she refused to be caught off guard again. She only barely made it back to her dorm before curfew.

When she opened the door and saw Tom, Diadem, and Draco sitting in the shared room, she raised her wand and pressed her back to the door.

The Toms showed mirrored smirks as she entered while Draco looked highly uncomfortable.

"This is the only time it will ever be permitted," Tom said as his attention slowly turned to Draco. "If you ever wished to, this is your chance."

"I've never wished to makeout with some freak Mudblood," Draco said though there was color rising to his cheeks.

"That is good because I will kill you," Hermione said without hesitation.

"That reminds me." Tom continued his expression alight with malice. "Hermione and I had a bet that you could settle for us. Now tell the truth, which of the boys in your year calls her Mudslut behind her back?"

"Tom," Hermione growled as she turned to look at the Professor. He was considering her with interest, his eyes cataloging her stance and expression. He was probably also looking for burn marks; she was sure he would already know about Tom's curse.

"Which answer won't get me punished in some way?" Draco asked nervously, though he didn't dare move from his seat.

"The truth. I want Hermione to hear the truth." Tom assured the blond with calm smugness. The disagreement over the hideous slur seemed like it took place a million years ago, she wondered if Tom ever let anything go?

"I guess we've all called her that at some point. You must know how guys talk?" Draco answered, without looking at Hermione.

"Malfoy, leave." She ordered as she was tired of Tom's game.

"Draco, you will go touch her as we discussed." Tom countered her order.

"If you come near me, I swear you won't be able to sit for a week." She threatened as she tried to keep all three in her view.

"You're frightening him; it's just a little experiment in what happens when someone touches you that isn't one of us," Tom said in a soothing tone.

"I already know when I purposefully touch someone it burns me." She said, waving her wand at Draco. "Now, you can leave us alone."

"My touch burns her?" Malfoy asked eagerly.

"Does it work if I don't want someone to touch me?" Hermione asked because she could almost see Draco's thought process.

"I don't see why it wouldn't," Tom said thoughtfully. "The curse has no way of knowing."

"But Harry-" She started, and the shift of Diadem's posture made her decide it was better not to finish that sentence.

"Well, since we are clear on the consequences of defying our ownership, I think it is time to go." Diadem got to his feet, and Tom followed soon after.

"You're going back to the compound?" Hermione asked as she realized she was between them and the door she shifted in the direction of her bedroom.

"We are. My other self wishes to meet you, and I've decided I am quite intrigued by the idea." Tom moved towards her, not the least bit fearful of the wand she still held at the ready.

"I have no desire to go back there or meet your other self."

"Back?" Tom asked with a pointed look at Diadem. The elder Tom just raised an eyebrow in return.

"I'm going to bed." Hermione declared as she turned towards her room. She wasn't about to confront Diadem when she was outnumbered.

"Hermione." They warned her in harmony, and it sent an unwanted shiver down her spine. She had her hand on her doorknob.

"How do you propose smuggling a woman who is kicking and screaming out of the castle?" She set her jaw.

The moment she heard the sound of one of them shifting, she turned and had her shield up. The force of their silent spells felt like a bludger against her protection. Both the men were watching her with the same hungry determination. Two more spells came at her as she tried to hold the shield long enough to enter her room. It was the fifth spell that shattered her defenses and the sixth that knocked the wind out of her.

When Hermione awoke from what had obviously been a stunner, she was lying on her bed, which didn't seem exactly right. She tried to rub her eyes and get some clarity only to find them bound behind her back. Her eyes widened as she pulled on the cuffs and found that her wrists were encased in soft wool-like material.

Fully aware, she realized she was not, in fact, in  _ her _ bed. The room was one she had never seen before. The furniture was pale birch and crafted to be sturdy as well as beautiful. It was decorated with minimal tasteful art, and all the textfiles in the room were a soft gray.

The bed was large, and the four posts holding the canopy and curtains were carved to look like dancing dryads. Hermione's eyes caught on silver inlays of different forest creatures, some of them holding odd little rings.

It was a testament to how used to him Hermione had gotten that she could take in all of the details of the room without first giving her attention to the Tom, who was patiently looking down at her. At first, she had thought he was the Tom from the past, but as she looked more closely and he smirked back at her with indifference, she realized he was slightly younger than that Tom.

"Who are you?" She asked, which made his face brighten with delight.

"They're right about you; you are quite quick. I even put on his uniform." He motioned to his robes. "My appearance isn't even a year younger."

"Who are you?" She asked again; she didn't want to play their game.

"I'm called Diary, and I am the only one here that isn't a bit smitten with you." He said as he reached up and ran a finger over her forehead. He looked at her with a detached fascination. "I'm the only one of myself that could kill you without regret."

Hermione swallowed. She had no idea where her wand was, and with her hands bound behind her back, there was little she would be able to do to fight him off.

"Your fear is quite beautiful." He said as if he agreed with an earlier unknown conversation. "It's alive in you, written in your every twitch. Yet it doesn't overpower those lovely thoughts quickly flashing through your mind. I'm starting to understand."

"What are you planning to do to me?" She asked, looking into his dark eyes even through her fear.

"Our Primary self wishes to see you again, but I wanted a chance to understand for myself. It would be best for you to comply with his demands." Diary said as he shifted so he could help her off the bed. "You must understand by now that we do not handle defiance with mercy."

She had nothing to say to any of his bunk, so she allowed him to help her to her feet and guide her out of the odd bedroom. She was led down to the main floor and directed into a small den. She bit the inside of her cheek as she got her first look at the monster Tom had become. His outsides now showed what had always been hidden beneath the pretty face.

She had expected revulsion as she looked into blood-red eyes. She had expected to find the alien snake-like appearance disgusting and make Tom more of a monster in her eyes. She had expected the visage Harry described to act as a shield against the traitorous thoughts and growing desire.

She burst into tears and crumpled onto her knees as her first thoughts upon seeing the most horrific version of him was that he was horrifyingly beautiful. What was wrong with her? How was it that the inhuman thing in front of her did nothing to dissuade her ever heightening  _ want _ ?

If her hands had been free, she would have covered her face; her only hope was that maybe he would see the reaction and think it was disgust.

"Little dove, it's been so very long." He said, and she was startled by how close he was. He crouched down in front of her and tilted her chin to look up into red slitted eyes. "You cannot imagine how long I've waited to touch you again."

"I hate you." She spit and tried to look away from him.

"That is what you always say when you are angry with how much you don't."

"You're a psychopath." She said as he ran gentle fingers down her cheek. "All of you are."

"You are the only one in this compound that isn't me. But in truth, you too are a part of me, just one that has always had a separate body."

"I'm never going to give in to whatever you think you want from me."

"No?" He asked and forced her to look at him again. "I have a potion here. I want you to take it, and you  _ will _ take it."

"Why would I ever do that?" She asked, wondering what he was trying to poison her with.

"Well, you don't have a choice is probably the main reason at the moment. But Hermione, do you think I would ever put you in real danger?"

Hermione licked her lips. She could still feel the moisture on her cheeks, and she wondered what she looked like to him.

"What is it?" She asked because she wasn't going to answer such a loaded question.

"A little something of my own creation." He tapped her temple with two fingers before continuing. "It is going to clear the rumble of your defenses against what it is your truly desire."

"You want me to take some potion that will mess with my self-control?" She asked and tried to shift back from him. "That's a horrible idea. Because what I truly desire right now is to kill Diadem, and I feel you would take offense to that."

"Is this about your motherly instincts towards the redhead?" Voldemort sneered as he stood so he could look down at her from his greater height.

"Motherly?"

"The boy came to no permanent harm, and from what I've been told you have learned your lesson, you have always been a quick study."

She glared up at him as she found him just as infuriating as the rest of the Toms she had spent any time with.

"Talking to any of you is like talking to a crazy person." She grumbled as she would not be intimidated by him, or at least she refused to show how much he intimidated her. "Why is it that none of you can understand that I don't want any of this. Is it not a clue that you had to stun and then bind me to even get me to your little meeting?"

Voldemort made a little thoughtful hum sound before he shifted away from her. "What we understand, Hermione is that you are fate's gift to us. You have always been ours, and you will always be ours."

"Why?"

"Because I have memories of being him." He said, making Hermione look up to notice Tom standing in the doorway, looking as vivid as she had ever seen him.


	10. Hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

"I didn't say you could talk to her alone." Tom cut in after he was acknowledged. "What gives you all the idea that I plan to share her?"

Voldemort sighed tiredly. "Once she takes the potion, you will better understand. This…" He motioned between himself and Tom. "Isn't sharing her with another, it is a tool to dominate her more thoroughly. One day you will be standing where I am."

Tom pursed his lips as he looked down at Hermione. "There isn't such a clear line with the others."

"They're still a part of us. And we as the Primaries will, of course, always have priority over the little dove's time. We will be the first to enjoy her fully."

"Hell no." She growled and struggled to free her arms from the cuffs. She shook slightly as she grappled with the conflict his words ignited in her. There was a shameful secret part of her that was intrigued by the idea of being pressed between the two fiends.

"Would you hold her, the potion will help her to accept her place." Voldemort directed

Tom grabbed a handful of her hair and knelt behind her, so her back was pressed to his chest. His other hand snaked around her waist and locked her against him even as she struggled.

"Shh." Voldemort tried to soothe her like some wild beast as he grabbed her jaw. "You need to drink your medicine, my little dove. You'll understand so much more clearly when you can see past everything holding you back."

She locked her jaw tight; Hermione didn't believe for a moment that she wanted their potion, even if it was what they claimed it to be, which she doubted.

"We always have to do this the hard way the first time." The older wizard sighed as he drew his wand. " _ Imperio _ ."

A foggy cloud descended on her mind, and it was so peaceful her whole body instantly relaxed.

"It won't be long before she stubbornness wins out over the spell." Someone noted from what seemed like very far away. "Drink this for me, little dove." The same person said as a glass bottle was held to her lips.

She wanted to please the voice, so she opened her mouth and took a swallow of the icy liquid. "You need to finish it all." He said before tipping more into her mouth.

"How long is it going to last?" Tom was asking as the clouds lifted from her thoughts. She frowned as she could taste the oddly cold potion on her tongue. Tom was still holding her firmly against him, but she hadn't registered that while under Voldemort's curse.

"Only about eight hours," Voldemort answered regretfully. "How are you feeling, little dove?" He asked as he touched her cheek with his fingers. She frowned but pressed her skin into his touch because it felt nice.

"You cursed me." She said, not answering his question. She was having trouble pinning down exactly how she felt. "Then drugged me with your potion."

"It is medicine." He corrected as he continued to pet her cheek. "You feel better, don't you? Less conflicted with all that morality that usually holds you back?"

She blinked and frowned. She searched her thoughts for the voices that usually told her not to do the things she desired, and she found none.

"This probably isn't good." She said thoughtfully, as she felt the hand Tom had on her waist slip under her sweater to brush her stomach.

"Hermione, it is going to be amazing," Tom said as she pushed into his touch. "All we've done is free you from the chain society has buried you in."

Voldemort knelt in front of her and drew her attention back to his face. "You want to be ours, don't you?"

"Yes." She admitted because she couldn't think of a reason not to. "But, you're bad."

"Are you afraid we're going to hurt you?" Tom asked as he pulled hair over her shoulder to give himself access to her neck.

"I want you to. But that's wrong, right?" She asked because the world seemed confusing, and she didn't know if she liked it.

"There is nothing wrong with a pretty little masochist asking for pain." Voldemort soothed as Tom nipped playfully along her neck.

She shivered and let her eyes drift closed. They surrounded her, and she was bound and helpless to their will. She was exactly where she wanted to be, and Hermione wondered why she had fought that moment for so long.

"Please?" She whimpered and blushed at the sound of neediness in her voice. Tom bit her neck hard enough to bruise, and she let out a moan she didn't recognize.

"Are you sure this will be okay?" Tom asked Voldemort a moment later. His thumb ran over the mark he left on her neck. "We don't want to ruin her future."

"Hermione, tell Tom what happens to girls who have sex before marriage," Voldemort ordered, and Hermione licked her lips.

"Nothing? I mean, if they get a reputation for promiscuity, then there are generally social consequences, but otherwise nothing."

"Will devoting yourself to us sexually have any effect on your long term goals?" The elder wizard pressed as his fingers trailed down to the button of her jeans.

"If people find out I'm fucking Voldemort-" He cut her answer off with a ravenous kiss. It seemed that he still enjoyed the taste of his name on her lips. Only Hermione did not shy away from him; she did not hold back as she so often did.

She could feel him pushing her jeans off her hips as he stole every bit of the air from her lungs. She felt light-headed by the time he allowed her to breathe. It was hard to focus on what they had been talking about, and Voldemort smiled as he used his wand to cut her shirt away.

Tom lifted her slightly as he pulled her jeans off as well. It felt weird kneeling and bound between them as they were both still fully dressed, and she was left in her underthings.

"How do you want us, little dove?" Tom asked as his fingers moved over her skin as if he was mesmerizing her.

"I've never done this before." She admitted, she didn't know exactly how it was going to work with two of them, but she also didn't want either to leave.

"I would hope not." Voldemort mused as he brushed his thumb over her lips. "It may be best if we blind her this time. Force her to feel everything we offer." He pressed his digit between her lips, and she nipped at the pad.

"I like that." Tom agreed, and she would feel him shift away before running his wand down her exposed spine. "Beg for us, Hermione."

"No." She answered and smiled as the refusal only made her feel higher.

Voldemort chuckled as he pushed himself to his feet. He tangled his fingers into the hair at the top of her head and grasped her tightly. "I have some much more fun uses for that mouth of yours, little dove."

She gasped as Tom used her distraction to cast a blinding spell, and she swallowed as the whole world went black. She could hear her heart beating quickly as she was utterly defenseless and at the mercy of two wizards who had none. The moment Voldemort let go of her hair, she felt surrounded by the sound of rustling clothes.

Tom returned to her first and guided her hips back, so she was straddling his lower abdomen. He pressed her forward a bit so she could feel a hard length against her open core.

"How wet is our little pet?" Voldemort asked as Tom moved her knickers aside with cunning fingers on her quim.

Hermione let out a little sound as he brushed the bundle of nerves that only she had ever touched before.

"Quite slick, considering we've hardly touched her." He answered as he brushed her clit a second time with purpose. "I'm betting we could make her orgasm with minimal direct stimulus."

"Something to try another time." Voldemort agreed as he guided her to lean forward, he took hold of her hair gently and pulled her lips to brush against hard but smooth flesh. "Lick and explore." He commanded.

As Tom continued to use his length and fingers to stimulate her, she ran her tongue up Voldemort's length. Their attention gave her a heady feeling. They were one of the most powerful and intelligent wizards in history, and they wanted her. They used so many resources to obtain her and make her theirs.

She ran her tongue from root to tip, surprised to find little barbs around the head. She shifted on top of Tom as she thought about what they would do to her, the mix of pleasure and pain naturally built into her lover's phallus.

While she teased the spikes with her tongue, Tom shifted her a bit more so that the head of his cock pressed against her core. He lowered her slowly onto him, and she focused on continuing the work in front of her as he made her feel every inch of him invade her quim.

"Good girl." Voldemort praised making her preen. "Now, the other." He shifted her head, and she almost drew away when she found a second length waiting for her attention. He was by no means seemed small, and she had no idea what damage he would be able to do to her with two cocks.

"You really are a snake." She gasped as Tom seated himself fully. He stilled her hips and waited for her to adjust. Even though she wanted to be ravaged by them both, they were being careful with her, making her first time exciting, but also safe.

Voldemort chuckled at her observation. "In some ways, do you like it, little dove?" He asked as she went to work, seeing if the left one tasted the same as the right.

"I love your cocks." She breathed, and she heard Tom chuckle behind her before he started to guide her hips up once more.

She let out a soft moan as Tom allowed her to move over his length how she wished. His fingers moved back to the crest of her womanhood and stimulated her clit to experiment with her pleasure.

"Open your mouth wider, my dear," Voldemort commanded, and she complied without hesitation. With her hands still cuffed behind her back, she had to rely on him to guide his head into her mouth.

Her tongue brushed over him, and she could feel the spines against her lips. "Not too much." He scolded as he drew back just a little. "In the future, I'm going to drive this down your pretty little throat and make you swallow your own blood. But I don't think you're quite ready for that."

Tom let out a soft moan as her body squeezed at the picture Voldemort had put in her head.

"I think she might like that idea." He said as his hands took control of her hips, and he brought her down sharply into his length.

She moaned around him and lathed her tongue over his head to show her agreement. Voldemort's fingers tightened her hair once more to control precisely how she took his cock, while Tom guided her onto his length with ever more delicious angles and speed.

She felt the tight bundle of her climax build low in her body, and she clutched her useless hands into fists as she neared the edge of her peak.

Voldemort moved her to give attention to his other cock as she felt him use his free hand to pump the length for her. She dazedly wondered what his cum would taste like just before her pleasure crested, and she lost all control of her muscles as they jerked between her lovers.

"Good girl." Tom praised while he continued to take her even as the feeling became too much. She whimpered around the head between her lips, but there was nothing she could do to stop him as he continued to take his pleasure.

Tom came first as he pulled her hard against him with one last thrust. She could feel him twitch inside of her as he filled her with his seed. She didn't have time to think of how that might not be for the best when her tongue was sprayed with an odd, almost salty flavor.

"Swallow." They both ordered before she could think what to do with the growing load in her mouth.


	11. Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Hermione woke Monday morning sore and a bit hungover. She was glad to be back at Hogwarts, but something wasn't quite right about her room. A moment too late, she realized she was, in fact, in Tom's dorm, and before she could jump out of bed, his arm reached around her. He pulled her back into his chest, and his hand moved her to her breast to playfully tease the nipple.

She moaned and bit her lip as the events from the night before fully crashed down on her head. The potion has done exactly as promised; she had no doubts as Hermione had given herself over to something she knew she wanted. But now Hermione knew precisely how many levels of wrong her escape with the two of them had been.

"Shit!" She cried as she jumped out of his bed. She was utterly naked, and as she looked, she didn't see a stitch of her clothing.

"Something wrong?" Tom asked as he stretched and glanced at the clock. It wasn't quite six yet, so they had some time before most people were moving around the castle.

"I need to go to the nurse, where are my clothes?" She asked as she considered running across to her dorm. Draco was a freakishly early riser; it would be a risk.

Tom chuckled and shook his head. "No, you don't." He said as he slipped out of bed. He, too, was completely naked but did not seem nearly as bothered by it. She found herself drawn to looking at his completely normal cock.

"I have to, you idiot." She growled, still unable to draw her attention away. She had to wonder how many of the Toms had human cocks and how many had one like Voldemort.

"So you want someone that isn't us to touch and burn you for what reason exactly?"

"Shit!" She noted her wand was on the bedside table next to her, and she scooped it up.

"Shoo, what's the matter, little dove?" He asked as he took a step towards her.

"Fuck your dove!  _ AVIS _ !" She yelled, and a small flock of doves sprang from Hermione wand and sped their way towards Tom's unprotected dick.

She didn't bother to stay and watch; she had too much to figure out on her own. She stomped out of his dorm and found the Draco was sitting in the common room drinking tea and reading. The blond's eyes went wide as he took in Hermione's state and probably caught sight of Tom fighting off the birds in the open door behind her.

"Do you know where to get a…" She took in a deep breath; she could not take the risk the dumbass behind her had put her in. "...a post-sex contraception potion."

"A what?" Tom hissed from the door; she wondered if he was angry about the eye full she was giving Draco. It was his fault for stealing her clothes. She turned to face him highly, considering sending more birds his way.

"We had sex last night!"

"I know." Tom grinned as she could just see the memories flash through his thoughts. She raised her hand for another barrage of birds, but it seemed he wasn't as distracted as she thought as he disarmed her with a flash of his wand. "Now tell me what has your knickers in a twist, you enjoyed every moment of it."

"I don't have time to get into how many ways what you two did to me last night was wrong. In fact, I can't because Draco is staring at my ass, and I'm bound to keep your secrets. But what I do need right now is a way of making sure you didn't get me fucking pregnant! Because there is no way in hell, I am having your child."

"Oh. Right. So you're not on any…"

"No, up until last night I wasn't sexually active, there was no point."

"I can get something for her. That is if you want me to, my Lord?" Draco asked from behind her.

"Go, and don't tell a soul who it is for."

Once Draco had left, Tom was still watching her. "We'll take care of this, get you on regular contraception going forward." He said after a moment.

"Do you think I am ever having sex with you again?"

He gave her another smirk but didn't respond. "You are more than welcome to join me in the shower.

"You're disgusting!" She called after him.

A few days later, Hermione was settling into her seat at the beginning of Defence Against the Dark Arts when Diadem walked over and placed a wooden box on her desk.

He spoke softly enough that none of the other students filling in would be able to hear him. "This is a month's supply. Once a week, the same day/time each week for the best protection. I would suggest Friday after supper as I am told there can be distracting side effects for the first 24 hours until you get more adjusted to taking it."

She looked Diadem straight in the eye as she picked up the box. She could feel the storm within her as she thought about how all the versions of him felt as if they could just play with her life at their whim. Her knuckles went white as she closed her hand around his  _ gift _ , and she used it to punch him in the face. She just hoped she broke his nose.

He stumbled back, bleeding as everyone in the room stared at the two in shocked silence.

"Miss Granger, Friday, after dinner, you will report to this class for the  _ first _ of your detentions." He said in a barely controlled tone. She grinned back at him, at least it would give her some real time alone with him so that she could show him exactly what she thought of him putting her friends in danger.

"Right." She chirped as she dropped the box at his feet, collected her things, and walked out of the class. She passed Harry on his way in, and he gave her a confused look. "I need some air." She said as she took his hand and squeezed it before leaving the whole situation behind.

Several times over the rest of the week, Harry tried to bring up the fight. But Diadem was a part of Tom, so her blasted vow kept her silent. When she entered the classroom Friday evening, she had her wand at the ready. She knew from experience that Diadem was more skilled than her at dueling, but that was only if she played fair.

"Do you know how lucky you are that I don't want you expelled?" He asked; he was leaning against his desk facing her. With a flick of his wand, the door closed and locked behind her. "What were you thinking?" He sounded angry with her for the first time. "I love your rage Hermione, but what were you thinking, attacking a Professor in front of witnesses?!"

She blinked at the question. Was Diadem more upset that she had attacked him publicly than the fact she had punched him in the face?

"You really want to know?" She stamped her foot. "You almost got one of my best friends killed just to teach me some kind of lesson. I know it was you who planted that tick! I was thinking that you all think you can just run my life; no one gave you permission. Handing me contraceptive potions in the middle of class?! I was thinking my life can't get much worse, so maybe I should follow Tom's advice and act without a conscience."

"Without a conscience is one thing, you acted with a brain. The old coot has been questioning me about your outburst all week. I had to convince him it wasn't as bad as the gossip mill would have him believe. That a few detentions would be sufficient punishment. What would you have done if you were expelled if your wand had been broken?"

"I would have…" She rolled her lips into her mouth as she tried to come up with a plan for that contingency. She hadn't thought that was a possibility until he pointed it out. She attacked a teacher; expulsion was a valid punishment.

"You would have been carted off to the Riddle Compound and not permitted to leave." He filled in for her. That was also something that seemed likely now that she thought about it more thoroughly. "So really you should be thanking me right now, shouldn't you? We both know you're not ready to live there full time."

"I'm never going back to that place!" She yelled and pointed her wand at him. "You stunned me and then left me tied up at their- your- someone's mercy!"

"I have the memories from that night, Hermione; I knew you were safe with them." He said in a calming voice.

"They forced me to dri-"

"To drink your medicine. Would you like some now, it might help sort out your feelings."

"It's not medicine; it's a drug! It made me want things from them."

He carefully pushed aside her raised wand and brushed the hair from her face. She tried to hold on to her rage, but when this Tom looked at her with such careful understanding, she felt it deflate under its own weight.

He cupped her cheek as he looked down at her. "Many medicines are drugs. I swear and vow to you that all the potion does is eliminate those voices of doubt that plague you. It allows you to care about yourself for a little while."

"Those voices are as much a part of me as anything else. They had no right to take them away from me."

His thumb brushed the corner of her eye, and only then did she realize she was crying. How could every part of this man make her weep so easily?

"By that logic, all delusions are a part of their host. You can't tell me the voices, that morality doesn't constantly get in the way of what is best for you."

"Morality isn't a disease you can cure me of."

"Who did you hurt by enjoying yourself? It is a disease when it is taken to the lengths you do. You work yourself up and up and up, and it isn't good for you. That potion only lasts a few hours at a time. We're not saying you need to get rid of voices all the time, but there are times you need to permit yourself some freedom from the world's issues."

"I didn't en-" He silenced her with a look. She looked down, not able to take knowing expression.

"Shall I ask Severus for some Veritaserum so that you can stop lying to yourself? You are not fooling anyone else."

She turned her back on him because she couldn't handle looking at his smug face. "You can't tell another person what they're feeling or what they like."

"I am very good at reading people Hermione; it is one of the skills that has gotten me to where I am." He pulled her hair off her neck the same way Tom had the night before. "The only reason you haven't long past given into us, and your desire for us, is because you feel guilty for wanting someone who you find morally reprehensible."

"You enjoy murdering people." She said before she realized she was only feeding his point. "That isn't a bad reason not to want someone."

He kissed her neck and settled his hands on her hips. "But that isn't what is happening. You do want us, even with the murder. You only deny yourself because you feel guilty  _ for _ wanting us. The potion just gives you a reprieve from the guilt."

He nipped her skin before touching the mark Tom had left. She shivered and tried to focus.

"I don't want a reprieve." She said as she tried to step out of his arms, only to have him hold her more firmly.

"And yet, you need one, little dove."

She whimpered and shook her head. "I came here to curse you bollocks off for getting my friend hurt."

He hissed and bit at the same spot on her neck. "You got the redhead hurt. You knew the rules; you knew we wouldn't allow the insult to pass. In fact…" He swung her around in his arms, and she found herself bent over the desk she often shared with Harry. "...there are many reasons you need to be punished."

The box she used to hit him was sitting in the middle, right in front of her face. She struggled against him, but he caged her in place. He grabbed her wrist, and with a wave of his wand, he stuck it flat on the desk next to the box.

"What are you doing!?" She tried to fight as he did the same to the other hand.

"Administering my Detention. It is up to the Professor's discretion on how to punish a student. First, you will take this." Diadem said as he opened the box and pulled out a small vile. "You must realize this is what is best for you." He said as he opened the bottle.

"Not having sex is better."

"And a smart girl like you knows that isn't an option. You want us, Hermione."

"I  _ want _ control over my own life!" She growled as she tugged at her hands.

"This is control." He pointed out. "Would you rather leave the contraception in our hands?" He asked as he resealed the bottle. I can discuss options with the others, but it only leaves you open to our whims."

"I'm not having sex with you tonight." She told him with firm resolve. "You'll have to force…"

"Shhhh. None of that." He ran a gentle hand down her back. "I swear to you that I will not have sex with you tonight. I won't even try."

It was hard to believe any of the versions of Tom, but if she was honest, he had never lied to her. He lied to other people as if it was akin to breathing, but never to her.

"What can I do to get you to release me?" She asked, wondering if he was in the mood to bargain.

"Take your punishment." His amusement was evident in his tone. "We can begin? There won't be time for this once I've started, and then you'll have to deal with the side effects on your own if you decide to take it."

"What is my punishment?" She asked as she wondered what he would do with her in her potion besides fucking her. Her brain couldn't think of any other good reason to have her bent over the desk.

"A thorough spanking followed by sitting at this desk and writing me a nine-inch essay on the nature and hidden pitfalls of morality."

She blushed at the humiliation of letting him spank her like some naughty child. But she could think of several points she would like to express about the  _ hidden pitfalls _ of morality.

"Fine, give me the potion." She relented. "But after the detention, I'm going back to my room." She added quickly.

He reopened the bottle and held it to her lips so she could drink the sweet concoction. Once it was down, she worked to shift into a more comfortable position. She didn't feel any different; she wondered if maybe she had gotten lucky and wouldn't experience the common side effects of these kinds of potions.

"I am going to hold you to that."

With a spell, Hermione didn't know Diadem pulled her hands further onto the desk, so she found herself with her top half pressed against it and bent directly at the waist. She found it hard to keep her footing with the height of the desk, and only her toes touched the ground.

"Do you know why I am punishing you, Hermione?" He asked as he flipped her skirt up, and she stilled. Was he going to break his word? Had she been wrong to believe that he wouldn't lie to her? "Hermione?" He asked as he settled his hand on her back.

"You said you wouldn't…" She trailed off and pressed her forehead to the desk. There was nothing she could do to stop him; at least she had taken the birth control.

"Shhhh. I'm not planning to take you against your will, little dove." He soothed as his fingers hooked into her knickers and told a very different story. "Rape isn't something I would enjoy with you."

"Right." She responded tightly; she didn't believe him. It seemed natural that he would betray her the moment she lowered her guard.

He pulled her knickers down to her knees and sighed. "I am simply making it, so your punishment has the biggest impact, little dove. You'll understand in time. Now, answer my question, or I will add disobedience to the list of your infractions."

He didn't make a move to touch her further, which put her a little at ease.

"I'm not sure what I am being punished for." She conceded. "I think you might be madder that I got caught over the fact I punched you in the face." 

"That is true, but I also can't have you continually perpetrating violence against us. Your first infraction was using the Impact spell against our younger self."

"That isn't fair! He was threatening me."

"Secondly, you are being punished for the bird spell aimed at our most delicate parts. If you had damaged Tom, it could have had lasting effects for each and every one of us."

"I was outraged, and he was being an ass!"

"Next, you are also being punished for not only going out romantically with another person but also allowing that person to touch and kiss you. Which put your friend in danger from one, if not all of us."

"This isn't…" She bit her lip. Going out with Ron had been a selfish mistake, and she had almost gotten him very hurt. He was put in the hospital wing because of her. The guilt for it was eating at her, and maybe accepting punishment for it would help.

"Good girl." Diadem praised. "Finally, there is the incident in the classroom where you not only used more violence against me, but you did it in front of witnesses, which not only endangered her education but entire future."

Hermione just sighed and nodded.

"Collectively, with all things considered, I feel that thirty-five by hand is reasonable. This is taking into account you have never been spanked before. If we were further into our relationship, I would give you seventy by paddle." He rested one hand on her lower back and the other on her bum.

"I assume there is no arguing against your math?" She asked half-heartedly, but there was a large part of her that suddenly wanted, maybe needed this punishment.

"Only if you wish for more?" He deadpanned. "You will count each spank, and at every five, you will thank me for giving you the discipline you need. Are you ready?"

Hermione took in a deep calming breath before nodding. "I'm ready." She said because it was better not to delay such things.

When his land landed on her butt for the first time, Hermione thought it sounded a lot worse than it felt. "One." The second strike was a bit more firm, but still nothing she couldn't handle. "Two." It continued to grow in intensity until the fifth blow made her gasp. "Five. Thank you, Professor, for giving me the discipline I need."

"Good girl." Diadem praised, as his hand soothed her pink skin.

By the tenth blow, she found herself wiggling against the desk as the heat of her bottom bloomed into something even more embarrassing. Diadem made it clear that he had noticed as he allowed his fingers to brush the seam between her thighs.

"When you are ready, I think Locket and Cup would enjoy taking hot wax to all of this. They would use all kinds of potions to make you smooth, soft, and oh so sensitive." He explained as he played with the hair he found.

"I won't be letting any more of you anywhere near my privates." She told him breathlessly, but his only response was another sharp spank teasingly close to her quim. She couldn't help but wonder what a direct blow would feel like? "Eleven."

"We'll see." He said before continuing her punishment.

As the number grew, Hermione found it harder and harder to keep still. She didn't think it was normal to have such an overpowering reaction to being spanked. She knew that there were people in the world who liked it, and Hermione supposed she had known for a while that she was somewhat of a masochistic, but feeling like she was on the verge of climax by the time he hit thirty felt wrong somehow.

"You sound like a needy little puppy." Diadem teased. "Begging for a treat. Do you want a treat, Hermione?"

"I don't know why I'm so worked up." She whimpered as the need turned uncomfortable.

"I told you the potion would have side effects; I assumed you knew what they would be."

"You gave me Envoria's potions if the sweetness is anything to go by. Not everyone has the side effects, and they aren't like the Baker's or Solar's potions where they actually  _ make _ you horny."

"I enjoy how well versed you are in this." He chuckled as he continued to pet her hand over her ass.

"I researched it this summer when Ron and I started getting more serious." She said and was answered by the hardest strike yet. "Thirty-One." She whimpered.

"Envoria's potion isn't what's arousing you. The punishment is the stimulant. The potion just makes it so no amount of rest will bring you down from the heights you have been pushed. It will be an ever heightening cycle until you find some relief."

"Oh." Her understanding of how the book had described it had made it sound like the mildest of the side effects one could have from potions of that sort. She realized that she had just misunderstood with no practical experience. It then occurred to her that Diadem had weaponized the side effects to use against her. "You're a bastard."

"Tom's parents were technically married." He answered before giving her a flurry of blows to finish off the last of her punishment.

She was shaking in need as he lifted the sticking charm that held her in place.

"You're not going to want these." He commented as he pulled her knickers down the rest of the way and removed them from her feet.

She was still lying on the table as she heard him move away. "Did you bring supplies to write my essay?" He asked as if she wasn't a needy little mess just laying across the desk.

"I didn't bring my bag." She swallowed as she worked to get control of herself.

"Sit in your usual place, and I will get you a quill and some parchment." He said as if they were in typical detention.

After a few more breaths, Hermione forced herself to shift into the chair. The moment her bare bottom touched wood, she let out a little yelp, shot to her feet, and crumpled to the floor as her legs didn't want to hold her weight.

She curled into a ball as she suddenly felt overwhelmed, and she needed to cry more than ever. She wasn't sure how long had passed before Diadem scooped her up off the floor and settled her against him in such a way that he ass was in the air.

"Shhhh." He soothed as he ran gentle hands down her back. "I'm here; you are not alone; I'm here." He murmured into her hair, and she slowly relaxed into his arms.

"I don't know what's wrong with me." She trembled and buried her face in his shirt.

"A mix of completely normal things. I had planned to comfort you after the essay; I should have realized you would need it sooner. Being spanked or punished is emotionally complex for any submissive."

"I'm not-"

"Hermione, my little dove, you are submissive." He cut her off, sounding a bit tired. "You seek to serve others in nearly every aspect of your life. You need the approval of those who have deemed dominant over you."

She swallowed and shook her head.

"It is okay. We treasure your submissive nature as it, as well as your masochistic tendency, make you a perfect mirror for us. Everything from your intellect, to your beautiful temper, was as if fate had crafted your to be our perfect match."

"I don't believe in soulmates."

Diadem chuckled. "It does sound like soulmates, doesn't it."


	12. Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Hermione took a deep breath, and she was already feeling calmer and less overwhelmed. She hated the fact the comfort came from Diadem, but she couldn't deny she felt oddly safe in his arms.

"Think you are ready to sit?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"Could I stand and write the essay?" She asked because even the slight brush of her punished bottom against the wood had felt like rubbing a sunburn against knives.

"No. Part of the punishment is sitting on your bright pink buttocks." He brushed his fingers over the warm skin, and she shuddered closer to him.

"You are the worst." Hermione whimpered as Diadem helped her to her feet and rose from her chair.

He waited expectantly, and she glared up at him in a silent battle of wills. He had no reason to give in to her, so she growled and glared at the chair. She placed a careful hand on the seat to lower ease herself down more carefully when her hand brushed something strange.

"Why does my chair have the texture of sandpaper?" She scowled up at him.

He didn't say a word, but his expression clearly stated that she should already know the answer.

"Part of my punishment." She snarled and took a breath. She was determined to get through his  _ punishment _ with her dignity intact. She would not break down again.

She forced herself not to make a sound as her over sensitive skin brushed against the abrasive seat. She tasted blood as she bit back her cry, and Diadem just smiled as he set the supplies down in front of her.

"I'll be at my desk if you need me." He offered before walking away.

Every slight shift was painful and distracting, and Hermione worked to stay perfectly still while she started her assignment. After a little while, a new problem arose as her vexing masochistic nature had her body shift forward without her consent. Her still maddeningly aroused state soon became more of an issue than the pain. She felt a bit high and knew she was probably flying on adrenaline by that point.

"Issue?" Diadem called as he must have noticed she had stopped writing.

"H-how do I get some relief from the side effects of the potion?" She was purposefully not looking at him, but she could almost hear his glee in the silence between them, fucking sadist.

"An orgasm would reset the issue."

She swallowed and frowned. "I'm so worked up I'm surprised I haven't had one." She said more to herself.

"That is an interesting problem." He said a bit too innocently.

Her head snapped up to glare at him. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, little dove." He put his hands up as if to show he was unarmed. "Many women find it hard to reach climax without some kind of direct stimulation. Though I am sure we could train you to orgasm on command. Maybe by some kind of sound or word. I'll have to put more thought into it."

Hermione put her hands flat on the desk as she considered her options. Even though Diadem's musing seemed only to ignite her need further, it was the opposite of helpful. Embarrassing as it would be, her only option might be to get herself off.

"Don't even think about it. You are being punished, Hermione." He said as if he could read her mind. She glanced up at him and figured maybe it was her face he could read so easily.

She let out a frustrated huff as she tried to redirect her attention back to the essay. The only thing to do was try and get through it as quickly as she could.

It was well past curfew by the time she had struggled to fill nine coherent inches of parchment. The ideas of pleasure and pain were all mixed in her head. Pain was good and satisfying, and pleasant, where pleasure was bad, and frustrating and painful.

"I'm done." She gasped and got up to bring him the paper on shaking legs. He let her stand in front of his desk without acknowledging her as he read over the essay. She swore she would punch him again if he made her write any more.

"Adequate." He finally said as he set the page aside. "Quiet ineloquent for you, but I suppose that can be understood. You are dismissed, though I have scheduled detention for the next three Fridays at the same time."

She bit her lip and worked not to whimper. Would she be able to make it back to her room feeling as she was? What would Tom do to take advantage, if he found her this worked up?

"May I-"

"You may leave, as I said, I would hold you to doing so." His face glowed with a dark sort of satisfaction.

"Thank you, Sir." She turned and headed for the door; she considered finding a hidden cove in the hall and taking care of herself on the way back to her dorm.

"It is after curfew; I'll walk you back to your room, so you don't get into further trouble." Diadem offered, and she nearly growled at him.

When they got back to her room, Tom was absent, as was Draco. She didn't think that boded well and couldn't help but wonder what they were up to. She slammed the door on Diadem's face without a word and rushed to the shower to find some all overdue relief.

By the next morning, her butt was better, though it still felt a bit warm, a reminder of all that had happened the night before. As if she had been considering it in her dreams, she woke with a new plan to try and get her some freedom from all the Toms in her life.

She couldn't reveal his secrets to anyone, it would mean death, and she didn't know anything worth dying for. What she could tell was secrets about herself. If she could just get someone powerful to start snooping around Diadem and Corvus, maybe she wouldn't have to reveal anything.

When she went down for breakfast, she was pleased to find Professor Dumbledore was still enjoying his meal. She walked right up to the staff table and respectfully waited to be acknowledged by the Headmaster before speaking.

"Sir, could I have some of your time to speak with you about a private issue today?" She asked fully aware that Diadem sat a few seats down and was pointedly  _ not _ looking at her.

"Of course, Miss Granger, if you would like, we can go to my office now."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you, Sir."

"Headmaster, she hasn't had any breakfast." Diadem cut in politely. "Maybe we should give her some time to eat first?"

"We'll have the food sent up to my office, thank you, David, for the reminder," Dumbledore said as he rose to his feet and gave the professor a kind nod before leading Hermione out a back hall towards his office.

The Headmaster waited until they were settled in, and she was a few bites into her breakfast before he reminded her why they were there.

"You said you needed to talk to me about something personal, Miss Granger?" He asked with the perfect inflection of worry in his voice. Hermione set down her fork and frowned. "Does this have something to do with Mr. Black?"

"No, not really." She said, wondering why he had jumped to that conclusion. She guessed it seemed reasonable since he was the newest aspect of her life, and she was sure Dumbledore didn't like not knowing where he had come from.

"I've recently discovered something about myself, and I didn't know who I could trust. Harry has always had a great amount of faith in you, Sir."

"What is it, my dear, nothing can be so awful?"

"At the beginning of the year, I was trying to do a spell, and it didn't work correctly. After a lot of studies and a magical object, I realized my formula was off because my blood status wasn't correctly represented."

"What kind of spell was this Miss Granger?"

"A traveling spell of sorts, I've had to put the project off now that I have school and these other things. The important part is I started to look into my blood status and discovered that both of my parents are Squibs. Both of their families were pureblood, which makes me..."

"A pureblood. I can see why such a revelation would affect you, Miss Granger. But how can I help?"

"When I communicated with my parents, they made it sound like I would be in danger if anyone found out. And I've been just sick with worry."

"What families are you a member of Miss Granger, do you know who your grandparents are?"

"Hector and Lillian Dagworth-Granger on my father's side." She started with the easy one and took a bite of toast so she could gather her courage to talk about the other side. Once she had thoroughly chewed the bite, she swallowed. "But my parents seemed much more worried about my mother's family."

"Who are your mother's people?" Dumbledore asked, leaning in just a bit.

"My grandmother was Vinda Rosier; my mother was born in Nurmengard Castle." She said as she poked at her eggs.

"So, your grandfather is likely Gellert Grindelwald."

She rolled her lips over her teeth as she looked up to find a speculative cunning face looking back at her. It reminded her so much of one of Tom's expressions her heart nearly stopped that maybe they had somehow replaced the Headmaster with a fake. The worry broke a moment later as she saw pity flash in his eyes. It angered her, but she looked at her lap to hide her reaction.

"I was also wondering if you could help me meet him?" She asked softly. Even if her little story didn't get Dumbledore to look at who was around her closer, maybe she could use his contact to meet at least one of her grandparents.

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Miss Granger. He is a dangerous, manipulative genius, even now. I wouldn't care to expose anyone to his brand of charm. I'll look into the rest and let you know what I find. Thank you for trusting me with this, Hermione." He said with care. "But I still have a few questions. Such as if your spell had anything to do with bringing Corvus here?"

Hermione bit her lip as if considered her answer. Would revealing her part in Tom's arrival break her vow?

"It may have." She said finally and shook her head. "But I can only assume that because of timing. It wasn't meant to bring anyone here at all."

"I see." Dumbledore looked at her for a long time as if he could see right into her soul. "What do you know about the young Master Black?"

Hermione fidgeted, why did he keep pressing this? Wasn't there someone else he could ask.

"I know that he is a brilliant student. I finally have some real competition in my year."

"And his behavior towards the other students?"

"I would like to think you know I wouldn't allow any bullies to go unpunished at this school." She said instead of answering.

"Fine." Dumbledore pursed his lips. "Would you like to tell me what happened with Mr. Manacle? Don't think I haven't noticed your vicious streak, Miss Granger, though now I understand better where you get it from."

Hermione looked up at him gape-mouthed as she had not seen the comment coming. She felt the blood drain from her face as she considered her temper coming from one of the most hated wizards of the century.

"T-that was a mistake." She said as her heart raced in her chest. "Something between the Professor and I, and dutifully paying for my crime."

"Humm." The Headmaster agreed noncommittally. Had he made his rude comment just to get a reaction out of her?

"May I go, Sir?" She asked as she suddenly felt as if she had put herself in more danger.

"Yes, Miss Granger. We will talk again soon."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Over the next month, all of the Toms distanced themselves from Hermione. None even tried to contact her, and she refused to reach out. Neither of the two living at the school said anything more than necessary to her. After living a year being what seemed like the center of Tom's attention, the sudden change was jarring. 

Diadem even passed her detentions off to other Professors. At first, she told herself it upset her because they were probably planning something truly evil, but after a few weeks, she had to admit that their abrupt rejection hurt her.

In other matters, Hermione sat down and talked to Ron about how she didn't want to ruin their friendship by continuing the romance. She tried to hurt him as little as possible, but the fact she wouldn't even physically touch him made it hard.

In those weeks, her only bright spot was Harry, who seemed busy more often than not, so her happy moments were few and far between.

It wasn't until most of the way through October until she noticed her shadows. She started to observe that wherever she went when not at a school required activity, there was a member of the Order of the Phoenix positioned nearby. They never looked directly at her or even seemed to notice her, but after she put the pattern together, she couldn't help but find them everywhere.

The moment she was sure that Dumbledore was having her watched was the moment she realized why the Toms had pulled away. They were keeping themselves safe from the Headmaster's spies. She had wanted him to investigate and find what the Toms were up to, but all she had succeeded in was making herself even more alone.

It was the night of Halloween, and Hermione decided to skip the feast. She didn't have the energy left to pretend to be happy. When Tom and Draco returned from the festivities, they found her curled into a ball on the couch in their common room with tears running down her face as she rocked back and forth.

When she looked up and realized they were witnessing her breakdown, she looked at the clock and burst into full out sobs. She covered her face with her hands and moved more tightly into her ball. She could only hope they let her be.

She didn't know how much time had passed before she felt suddenly enclosed by Tom's magic. It surprised her enough to stop crying and look up to see what had happened.

Tom sat on the coffee table in front of her and held out a familiar-looking bottle. She licked dry lips as she just stared at it.

"He's watching me." She admitted in a hoarse voice.

"We know," Tom said as he placed the bottle in her hand. She drank down the icy potion knowing full well that she needed a break from her guilt and worry. "Good girl." He praised before taking the empty bottle and setting it aside. "Diadem is on his way. You'll be sleeping with us tonight."

The hurt and need for companionship was still very much alive in her even as the worries and guilt faded to nothing.

"You abandon me." She said after a moment.

"Was it not you who continually demanded distance?" Tom questioned.

"I guess I didn't mean it." She admitted softly. "He can't come here; I'm being watched." She added suddenly and then relaxed as she remembered she had just said that. "I knew you knew. Well, I figured it out when I figured it out."

"What exactly did you say to the old trouble maker?" Tom asked patiently.

"I told him about my grandfather, and I wouldn't tell him about you. Where's Draco?" She asked and glanced around to find his door locked and warded.

"Have you been taking your contraception?" Tom drew her attention back to him. It was comforting to see the obsessive need for her focus on his face.

"Yes." She said with a slow nod. "Not that I've needed it, but I received the refill you put in my dorm. Why did you call Diadem?" She asked as she searched his eyes.

"I am uncomfortable trying to correct your distress." He admitted as he sat up a little straighter. "It is my first instinct to deepen it for my gratification, and I realize that is not what we need in this particular situation."

Hermione blinked at him for a long moment as the real weight of his words was not lost on her. "You…" She licked her lips as she tried to articulate her realization; it didn't seem real. Before she could say anything, the fireplace sprang with green fire, and Diadem appeared with a smug expression.

"This will solve a lot of issues." He said as he brushed the soot off his robes. The Head's fireplace was not supposed to be connected to the floo network, but it seemed they had found a way around that. "How is she?"

"How should I be?" Hermione asked as she hated when people talked about her as if she wasn't there, and these men had a habit of it.

"She told him about the grandfather, but it sounds as if he was much more interested in learning my secrets," Tom said, ignoring she had even spoken.

"Of course, he did." Diadem sighed before he looked directly at Hermione.

"Maybe we should take her to the compound," Tom suggested.

Hermione disentangled herself from the ball she was in and forced herself to her feet. "You are not taking me anywhere! I'm not talking to either of you!" She yelled, suddenly angry. "You abandon me!"

When she turned to stomp off towards her room, she found that her door was also closed and warded. She growled and turned back toward Tom's dorm. She could easily lock them out of it instead.

"Hermione," Diadem warned, and she froze with her hand on the doorknob. "You need to calm down, would you like some medicine?"

"She already took it."

"I did." She agreed and turned to face the older wizard. "Your potion numbs the guilt and morality, but it does nothing for the hurt and annoyance of being ignored and abandoned!"

"I should have realized; I doubt you would have admitted needing us at all without it," Diadem said calmly.

"Probably not out loud." She agreed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"We've been working on a way to talk to you without the bastard's spies being able to observe. They've even have these rooms monitored."

Her fingers curled into fists as she considered the lengths Dumbledore was going to spy on her. "What could I have possibly said to warrant this reaction?"

"What exactly did you say to him? How did he respond?" Diadem asked carefully as he made his way towards her.

Hermione licked her lips and rolled her eyes. "I told him about the experimental movement spell and how it led me to research my blood status. I told him who my grandparents were, and he asked if the spell could have brought 'Corvus' here. I said maybe, but I couldn't see how. I asked for his help to see my grandfather, and he shut me down fast. He asked more about Corvus, and I didn't give him anything you would consider a secret. I commented on finally having some academic competition. Then he asked about when I punched you, and I pretty much didn't say anything except that I knew I was in the wrong…" She remembered the awful comment Dumbledore had made.

"Hermione?" Diadem was directly in front of her when she looked up, he settled his hands on her arms and looked into her eyes. "What have you just thought of?"

"It's just during that meeting I noticed how similar his mannerisms are to yours sometimes; over-practiced, too perfect. And then I think he said this awful thing to me just to read my reaction. Just like you would do."

Diadem ran his finger along her hairline in a comforting gesture. "What did he say?"

Hermione pursed her lips as he tried to picture the words accurately. "Don't think he hasn't noticed my vicious streak, though now he understands better where I get it from."

"Good girl." He praised before kissing her forehead. "With your connection to another dark wizard, he is seriously considering that you're a spy for Voldemort. No wonder he's been working to keep Harry away from you. He considers the boy some kind of weapon in our fight."

"Is Harry safe?" She asked as she allowed Diadem to wrap him in his arms. She was thankful that Tom had called him; it felt like coming home to stand in the older man's embrace.

"Don't worry about that, little dove." He murmured before shifting to look back over his shoulder. "It would probably be best if Hermione felt the full force of our domination tonight."

"Agreed, it has been too long for all of us."

"We may wish to make a weekend of it." Diadem suggested, and Hermione swallowed as her body warmed to the idea of being owned by them for an entire weekend.

"Should we take her to the Compound and involve everyone?"

"Though that would probably have the greatest effect, I don't think we can risk taking her off school grounds."

When Hermione pressed herself tightly against Diadem's chest, it felt like salve on an opened wound. They didn't abandon her; they still wanted her.

"Lets at least take her to your room, the bed is bigger." Tom pointed out.

"Fair."

Diadem shifted so he could smile down at her. "Though I don't believe in dressing pets up in clothes, so they will have to stay here." He said as his eyes flicked down to her robes.

Hermione's heart raced as she considered his words, and she started to undo the buttons of her shirt without being asked directly. Tom moved up behind Hermione and helped her out of the robe, skirt, and the rest of her clothes until she was left bare between the two men. She shivered in anticipation.

They led her through the fireplace to the Professor's private rooms. Hermione had never seen any of the staff housing in the castle; it was a comfortable apartment with a private study, a bedroom, and a bathroom.

They moved directly to the bedroom and sat her down on a stool at the end of his bed. "I'll be right back, little dove," He promised before heading towards the bathroom. Before she could see what he was doing, Tom moved in front of her and cupped her cheek to force her attention entirely on him.

"Eventually, we are going to have to punish you for causing this issue." He said, then leaned in and brushed his lips softly against hers. "But I've been told it would only cause you more distress. You'll just have to make it up to me in other ways."

Hermione tried to catch his lips with her own, but he only shifted away to tease her.

"Yes." She agreed, needing him to move closer, not further away. Tom smiled in victory as he pressed forward to capture her lips. His hands moved to hold her face firmly as he continued the kiss well after her breath was stolen.

She could feel another set of hands moving in her hair, and she moaned against Tom's lips as she started to get light-headed.

"Just relax," Diadem whispered in her ear as Tom finally allowed her to take a full breath. "Who do you belong to, Hermione?" He asked as the other man tasted his way down her neck.

"You." She cried while someone took her by the hands and wrapped cuffs around her wrists.

"Say our name." Diadem pressed while Tom gave his attention to one breast then the other. He kissed and licked her nipple before biting just hard enough to make her whimper.

"Voldemort." She keened as the cuffs were attached to her rings hooked to the bedposts.

Diadem shifted behind her, and she could feel the hard planes of his chest pressed against her back. The feel of his naked body against hers made her purr in delight.

"Say it, Hermione. Tell us who you belong to." Diadem continued as Tom shifted away from her front, leaving her cool in his absence.

She opened her eyes and looked up into his face. He was looking down at her as if he planned to devour her whole. And she trembled with anticipation for his meal.

"I belong to Voldemort." She said, igniting dark fire in Tom's eyes. She watched him peel off each layer of his clothes and let them drop to the floor, all the while keeping his absolute focus on her.

"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue." Diadem continued to whisper in her ear. She complied without question, knowing full well they would never hurt her in a way she didn't like. 

She blinked as she watched something fall from his fingers. The minimal light glistened off of the perfect garnet drop. Her first thought was blood, a perfect drop of blood, before the spicy bead instantly dissolved on her tongue. She swallowed by instinct and gasped as her mind raced with what else he could have given her.

"Wha-"

"Just something for fun, I promise." Diadem kissed her neck and directed her attention back towards a fully naked Tom Riddle.

Tom smiled in his cold way as he just looked down at her. The look did nothing to stop her racing heart and emotions. She wanted him to touch her, but he just stood as if waiting for something. He didn't want Hermione's permission; she knew him too well to think he would ever feel the need for that.

"You belong to us, to me." He told her without a hint of emotion. She knew when he was like this; he was at his most dangerous.

"Yes." She agreed because she wanted to belong to them when she didn't have to let her morality play into her choices.

"I can play with you any way I like," Tom said as Diadem continued to kiss her neck. His hand snuck around her waist and encouraged her to part her thighs for him.

"Yes." She said, wanting desperately for him to touch her. "Please?" She shook as she tried to lay back against Diadem.

Tom's gaze slowly trailed down the length of her body until it settled on her exposed cunt. A satisfying turn of his lip changed his entire demeanor. "Tell me you were wrong." He commanded in a low tone. "You were wrong to try and keep yourself from me."

"I was wrong." She bit her lip; she couldn't pull her eyes away from his expression.

"We have all the time in the world Hermione," Tom leaned over her. His hands moved to the bench on either side of her hips. "I am going to take my time this weekend and make sure you finally understand your place."

"At your feet?" She asked as her voice quivered. Diadem was teasing her with gentle strokes everywhere but where she wanted him most.

"No, little dove." Tom leaned in so close she could taste his breath. "At my side." He finished before kissing her once more.

He pressed her as firmly back against Diadem as the restraints would allow, then lifted her butt so he could drive himself inside of her without delay. Her whole body started to buzz with sensation. He swallowed her cry with domineering focus and forced her to wrap her legs around his waist.

Diadem continued to play with her, nudging her clit every so often as his counterpart fucked her. His lips made a trail over her neck and shoulder, and it wasn't long before she was shaking with the need for release.

Tom's lips moved from hers and down the other side of her neck. When Hermione gasped for air, she felt as if she was balanced on the edge of a knife, and no matter how she tried, Hermione couldn't jump off.

"Oh, oh oh!" She whimpered as she clenched her hands into fists.

"I do so love to edge you." Diadem murmured in her ear as tears welled at the corners of her eyes. "Lust Caplets are a tricky thing to master." He teased her with more direct attention to her overworked little nub. "To get the exact effect you want."

"P-please?" She whimpered as her body seemed to cramp with want.

"Think of this as the first part of your training." Diadem explained before kissing her ear. "You need to learn what it feels like to hold yourself back."

"H-how long?" She thought she might cry.

"If we got the dose right about an hour," Tom growled as his thrust became wilder. "If not, it could be days. I think it would be lovely to leave you as a quivering mass of need for weeks at a time." He threatened just before driving himself into her to the hilt.

His hips jerked as he came, and Hermione whimpered as her body wanted the same relief. He stilled as his cock softened inside of her, and even Diadem withdrew his hand. The rest didn't give her a bit of reprieve, and she hung limp between the two of them, trying to keep herself from making pathetic sounds of need. 

The rest of the weekend was a blur of hedonist, beautiful torture. She gave herself over to it, even after she sobered from the morality potion. The month alone made Hermione realize how much she needed them and how much they cared for her in their way.

Sunday evening Hermione and Tom were sitting on the couch reading in comfortable silence. Tom sat in silk pajama pants that hung low on his hips while Hermione laid with her head in his lap while entirely naked. Every so often, he would reach over and pet, scratch or pinch her skin in distracting and enjoyable ways.

Hermione knew the weekend was a dark dream that she would have to wake up from eventually, but she had thought she had a bit more time before Diadem slammed the door with a growl. The other two were immediately on alert and shifted out of their lazing position.

Diadem paced and fumed in a way Hermione had never witnessed before. She had seen much of the extinct of Tom's temper, but Diadem had yet to show that side of himself. Even when he was disciplining her, he was ultimately calm.

"W-what's wrong?" She asked and noticed he was holding a late issue of the Daily Prophet.

The older wizard shoved the paper into Tom's hands and yanked Hermione into his embrace so she couldn't see for herself what he was so worked up over. He buried his face in her hair and seemed to physically relax just by her proximity.

"I'm going to murder him myself." Tom hissed between clenched teeth. "I am going to make it last for years, but he will die by my hand."

"What happened?" Hermione asked again as she tried to look back at Tom.

"She might want to do it herself." Diadem sounded much calmer than he had been when he first entered the room.

"If you don't tell  _ her _ what is going on, she might murder you both." Hermione pushed out of Diadem's arms to snatch the paper away from Tom. Her arms went a little numb as her eyes scanned the headline. It seemed she had made a worse mistake than she initially thought.

**_GRANDDAUGHTER OF FAMOUS DARK WIZARD GRINDELWALD FOUND HIDING AMONG HOGWARTS STUDENTS_ **

She felt Diadem press himself carefully against her back as she scanned the article. "It wasn't you all?" She asked just to be sure.

"This does nothing but set back our plans." Tom hissed, and she noticed his wand hand twitching as if he was dying to go torture something.

"It also has the possibility of putting you in danger. Don't open any mail yourself." Diadem insisted softly. "It is easy to make people hate."

"Well, you would know."

"Yes, I would." He said before kissing the side of her neck.

"Dumbledore said he would look into my bloodline for me, how likely is it that it might be that he asked the wrong person questions?"

"That is probably exactly what he is going to tell you, Hermione." Diadem sighed. "We should get you back to your dorm in case he feels the need to seek you out."

"But it is much more likely that he couldn't find any connection between you and us, so he is trying to use you as some kind of bait." Tom sniffed as he got to his feet.

"He wouldn't do that, would he? Not to one of his students?"

Diadem sneered his eyes alight with forbidden knowledge. He didn't speak until she gave him her full attention. "He has before. It isn't a mistake that everyone knows Harry Potter's name."

A new sort of heat ignited in her chest as she considered the fact that the Headmaster had put her best friend in harm's way on purpose. Facts about their relationship settled into place more cleanly than it had ever before.

"And I am sure now that he knows your background, he doesn't want you anywhere near his little lamb." Tom sniped.


	14. Attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

When Monday came, the news had spread to every corner of the school. Those who previously had no idea who Gellert Grindelwald was, had suddenly become experts on what many considered Lord Voldemort's predecessor. As many still thought the later dead, they suddenly realized Grindelwald was the more significant threat since he was still alive even though he had been locked away for several decades.

Hermione forced herself not to look at anyone as she made a beeline to her usual seat across from Ron and Harry. Over the month, Ron had been giving her a bit of the cold shoulder by not talking directly to her. But as she looked at the severe focus he gave her as she sat down, she felt a bit sick. A sudden wave of sorrow bloomed in her chest as she knew that her lineage would be the final straw in their friendship.

"I'm surprised you have the nerve to show your face here with decent people."

"Ron, Hermione hasn't done anything wrong." Harry sighed as if this was not the first time they had had the conversation.

"She lied to us, Harry!" Ron waved his fork at her, almost hitting her with a piece of a bean. "She said she was a muggle-born! Now we find out she's some high and mighty pureblood, and her family was-"

"I didn't know Ron. The article didn't say so, but both my parents are Squibs, and they never told me." She cut him off her face feeling a little hot as she tried to keep back tears. She was sure everyone was looking at her. "I only found out at the beginning of the school year, and I've been trying to figure out what it means for me."

Ron didn't look as if he believed a word she said.

"You know my parents are dentists for Merlin's sake."

"That's what you  _ told us _ ."

"Why would I ever put myself through the abuse one gets in this school for being a muggle-born?" Hermione stood but worked not to scream at him.

"It isn't so bad; you wanted special points for being so smart even though you come from muggles." Ron stood as well and slammed his hand down on the table. He was not keeping his voice level.

"Do you know how purist you sound right now?" She growled between clenched teeth.

"You would know, it's in your blood!" Ron yelled; he didn't care what kind of scene they were making.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and grabbed a piece of toast off the patter before heading back towards the entrance. She did not need to take that kind of shit from someone who had claimed to be her friend.

"Probably why you broke up with me too!" It seemed Ron wasn't done yelling. "Your kind, don't date blood traitors!"

"RON!" Harry yelled and then said something Hermione couldn't hear as she was working to escape from the crowd of gawkers.

Diadem found her sitting outside the potions classroom with her nose stuck in the text so that no one could see the tears running down her face. She and Ron had gotten into a lot of fights over their years as friends, but she didn't think it would survive Ron's words or assumptions.

When the Professor crouched down in front of her, she refused to acknowledge him. She didn't need some man telling her things would be okay. And she definitely didn't need the piece of some genocidal psychopath comforting her.

"I've already started intercepting your mail."

"Oh good, so I only get to know what you allow. I will be well and truly isolated from the entire world before the day is out." She said without lowering her book.

She heard him get to his feet and move to the door next to her. He opened it without knocking.

"Severus, I'm going to borrow Miss Granger for a while. I have some safety concerns about these new developments."

Hermione held her breath. What was Diadem thinking, revealing they had any sort of connection? Snape was a spy for Dumbledore, a double agent. She chewed on her lip as she realized she had never told Tom about that.

"I'll speak to the Headmaster about dismissing her from her classes for the next few days. She'll only be a distraction to the students who aren't already ready to take their NEWTs."

"Probably for the best." Diadem agreed before closing the door.

"You know he isn't loyal to you." She said softly before looking up to see the Professor's face.

"Severus has no idea who I really am." He assured her as he offered a hand to help her up. "To him, I am a sympathetic ear. Someone who has also had to walk a fine line."

"I'm sure he will still tell Dumbledore that you took me somewhere. Where are you taking me?" She pursed her lips as he started to guide her away from her first class.

"To my office, where you can see exactly what I am keeping from you."

"Which office?"

He chuckled and smiled at her. "The one here, I still don't think I could get away with removing you from the school. But I can spin keeping you away from the other students as a safety precaution for everyone."

"Because I am so very dangerous." Hermione tisked. After a moment, she was shoved into one of the many hidden nooks in the castle. Diadem pressed her firmly to the stone with his body.

"Hermione, my little dove, you are among the most dangerous people in this school." He said as he forced her to look up into his eyes. "Your mind is the sharpest weapon I know."

"And that's why I get pushed around by a bunch of psychopaths all the time."

"Two things; first, we are quite dangerous ourselves, and second, there is a large part of you that likes when we push you around." He said with a smirk. He leaned down and rested his head against hers. "I wish you could see yourself the way we see you, Hermione."

"Show me my mail." She tried to keep up her resolve, but the way he stood as an anchor for her only chipped away at her will.

He kissed her forehead before allowing her to leave the alcove first. They walked with a few feet between them after that. They passed McGonagall on the way even though her classroom was nowhere near Diadem's.

He made easy conversation with the other Professor, and when she questioned why Hermione wasn't headed towards class, he said something in hushed tones. Hermione fidgeted as she watched the woman's face change to something like suspicion and maybe pity. They were half a hall away from her when she called out.

"I almost forgot David; the Headmaster is having a meeting tonight that he would like you to join."

"A staff meeting?" Diadem asked innocently. "Isn't that on Wednesday?"

"Not exactly, everything will be explained there." She waved her hand and continued on her way.

"They're not planning to invite you into the Order," Hermione spoke in a hushed tone. Diadem just smirked at her and motioned for her to continue.

Once his doors were safely closed, and Hermione felt his ward as it rose around them, Diadem let out a maniacal laugh.

"I really must thank you, little dove. I've been trying to get an invitation for a while."

"And I helped?"

"Dumbledore must have seen the way you seem to trust me; they want my insight on you." He said and kissed her head again. "If they only knew the secret to your trust is denying you release for longer than you can stand." He hissed playfully.

Hermione blushed and rolled her eyes. "You were going to show me my mail."

"Right." He agreed and headed up to his private office at the back of the class.

Hermione hadn't visited the space since he had taken it over. Each Professor had made it their own, and Diadem was no different. It was nothing like his office back at the Compound. Instead of books and comfortable space, this office was filled with dark objects behind spelled glass.

"I made a name for myself as a curse breaker." He said as she noticed her looking around. "Some of these can do quite beautiful things to the human body."

"And they just let you keep them in a school full of children?"

"It doesn't seem Dumbledore has ever had much concern for his student's welfare." He teased.

As she scanned the cases, she was oddly drawn towards a medium-sized box made of vibrant blue velvet.

"What could this possibly do?" She asked as she touched the glass in front of it.

"Ah, that is the most dangerous object of the lot," Diadem said from just behind her. He pushed her hair from her neck and kissed her skin.

"Really?" She asked, blushing to feel so drawn to something deadly.

"Oh, yes." He agreed as his hand covered hers over the class. "That my little dove is me."

"How could tha-" She cut herself off and licked her lips. "It's Ravenclaw's Diadem." She realized feeling a bit light-headed.

"So smart." He agreed as she kissed her neck one last time before pulling away. "This pile is all things you can take if you wish." He said as he headed back towards his desk.

It was harder than Hermione would have liked to admit, to turn away from the case and direct her attention towards her mail. There was a lot more mail than she thought was proper. The article has only come out the night before. She moved to the pile he directed first.

"Some of them very well might be hate mail, but I am not here to protect you against foal words. This middle pile is something a bit different. I want to check it for spells and curses thoroughly, but they won't exactly be harmful."

"What are they?" She asked as she looked at several thick packages looking to contact books or many pages of writing.

"More than likely, they are marriage offers. They all come from prestigious pureblood families with unmarried sons."

"Eeww." Hermione frowned as the top package was from the Malfoy family. "Double eww."

"Draco has been sworn not to reveal our relationship to his family, so I am not surprised they wouldn't try to obtain you for themselves."

"Is Voldemort going to tell your followers that I am off-limits?" Hermione asked curiously. "Now that I've been outed."

"No," Diadem said in a drawn-out thoughtful way. "For your sake, we don't want you to have any official connection to the Death Eaters.

"Is he going to find reasons to torture the heads of each and every family represented in that pile?" She asked and glanced up at the Professor.

He was smiling. "You know us so well. This pile is the one I don't want you touching at all. It contains letters and objects that have dangerous magic on them. You may examine each with your eyes if you think I am working to hide something important from you."

"Oh, if you wanted to hide something from me, it wouldn't be on your desk." She said as she moved around him and started to open drawers without asking permission.

"Hermione," Diadem warned as she found the stack he had tucked away under a hidden compartment at the bottom of his left drawer.

She sat in his large comfortable leather desk chair and crossed her legs under her as she flipped through the small stack.

"Why didn't you want me to see these?" She asked before getting to one marked Lillian Dagworth-Granger, and another few marked with the Rosier surname.

"A multitude of reasons." He sighed and moved around his desk. Instead of snatching the letters like Hermione thought he would, he opened another tiny secret drawer and pulled out her necklace. "I want you to start wearing this again."

She set the letters down in her lap as she directed her attention to the dove.

"What spells are on that?" She asked pointedly.

"A multitude of spells, but they are all to keep you safe. I've allowed you to go unprotected for long enough."

"No." She said as she turned back to her letters, she opened the one from Lillian first.

"Hermione, you will wear this necklace for the foreseeable future, or I will make you a collar and  _ lock _ it onto your pretty little neck."

If her letter was to be believed, Lillian wanted to simply reach out to her granddaughter. She had tried to find her son several times since her husband's death, and she was thrilled to find a connection finally. She was shocked he had married another like himself and produced someone like Hermione, but all she asked for was to start and repair her family after too many years alone.

"You are ignoring me." Diadem hissed.

"Tell me what spells I would be wearing, and we can talk," Hermione said as she considered her grandmother's letter. It was filled with microaggressions towards those not of magical ability, but the woman didn't seem to know any better.

"This is why I didn't want you to read them; they will be full of lies and will just upset you." He hissed as he forcibly made her look at him, by grasping her chin. "Hermione, you cannot trust any of those insects."

"You're just afraid that connecting with a family I didn't know I had will give me someone besides you to rely on." She deadpanned back. "You like it when I am all alone, so I have no choice but you."

"I prefer to see it as clearing the board of unworthy choices."

It was Hermione's turn to sigh. No matter how much of a ruthless villain her Toms were, they still had the doubts of a child left to rot in an orphanage. She leaned in and pressed her forehead against his. Her hand brushed his cheek, and she closed her eyes.

"Getting to know my family isn't going to make me love you less, Diadem." She told him softly. They both jerked at her words, and she glanced away as she was sure her entire body turned red.

She knew how uncomfortable the L-word made any version of Tom. But she also had to face the fact that at least with this Tom, the word was the most accurate description of her feelings for him. The realization made her want to cry. She folded in on herself, ready for the rejection of the very idea of love.

"Take your mail back to your room and stay there. I'll have the House Elves bring you meals. But I don't want anyone to think I am giving you undue attention." He said carefully.

She unfolded from herself as he stepped back and started to collect the mail he was sure was safe. As she shoved the letters in her bag, she felt his hand on the small of her back.

"Hermione." He spoke low and controlled. "You will wear my necklace." He said firmly as he shifted her hair out of the way and strung the chain around her neck.

She had to take several deep breaths so she wouldn't cry. She realized that things like the necklace were the closest any of them would ever come to love her back. Diadem would keep her safe, and mark her as his; it was his version of love.

She remembered then how Tom had sacrificed his pleasure in tormenting her to call upon Diadem to make her feel better. She had searched for the meaning at the time, and she smiled to herself as she finally found it. Her Toms cared for her more than they had ever cared for another living soul.


	15. Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
> 
> A/N-This is it for Trope Bingo. I hope you have enjoyed the ride as much as I have... though I may be working on a sequel >.>

Hermione didn't leave her room for the rest of the week. She read every letter Diadem deemed safe enough to pass along to her. Some were just inquisitive, while others were disgusting and hateful. A few were detailed accounts of how the writer planned to rape and humiliate the 'pureblood bitch' with their 'mudblood cock.' Those she set aside while she considered which authorities could be most helpful with the threats.

Harry ate dinner with her each day and brought Hermione assignments for each of her classes, even those they didn't share. They talked about his day, but he was careful not to so much as mention Ron. Hermione thought the other boy must still be spreading poison about her if Harry wasn't even attempting to reconcile them.

Friday night, Hermione had not yet received any of the marriage contracts from Diadem. It wasn't that she would consider any of them, but her curious mind wanted to know precisely what a pureblood marriage contract entailed.

She was in dire need of a change of scenery, so Hermione decided to head down to his office and see if he had any of them ready for her. When she got to the classroom, she knocked to see if he was there. No one answered, but the door was unlocked.

Hermione stuck her head in thinking maybe he hadn't heard the knock, back in his office. She smiled when she saw the light and stepped into the class. She bit her lip before locking and warding the door behind her. It had been a long week, and Hermione bravely considered asking him for some stress relief. Some of her medicine and a large does of his attention would do her a world of good.

As she climbed the stairs, she could see shadows moving under the door. "Professor Manacle?" She called out just in case he was with another student. When no one answered, Hermione, knocked on the door. Still no answer. Hermione pressed her ear to the door, but couldn't hear voices or movement inside. If it weren't for the light and motion of shadows under the door, Hermione would think the office was empty.

She chewed on her lip for a moment before trying the knob. The door was locked, but curiosity got the better of her. She started going through different unlocking spells she had learned over the years, and when one finally worked, she opened the door just enough to peek inside.

With the seal on the door cracked, she could hear the voices of those inside the office.

"Who do you belong to, my pretty boy?" Diadem growled low. Hermione swallowed at the image before her became focused with perfect clarity.

She covered her mouth with her hand as she watched the Professor hold a boy bent over his desk by the back of his neck.

"Tell me who you belong to, or I'm not giving you what you want, precious." The man demanded.

"You, Master!" The all too familiar voice gasped, and she couldn't hold in her distress any longer as it was all too clear who was pressed under the man she thought she loved.

"Harry?!" She gasped, and both figures looked up at her. The blood drained from Harry's face as he realized who had caught them.

She slammed the door and turned on her heels. She needed to get away and process her feelings before Diadem could muddle everything up all the more. She growled as she hit her own wards and tore them down like a cat clawing paper.

When she hit the hall Hermione ran, not knowing where she was headed; she just needed to get away from the green-eyed beast trying to crawl its way out of her chest. Diadem. Harry. Diadem. Harry. Diadem and Harry.

When cold night air hit her face, she let out a sob and crumpled in the wet grass. Why was she so surprised? She had known Tom was flirting with him at the beginning of the year, but once Harry had explained he had found someone she had never even considered, Diadem had made his own moves.

She was shivering with cold and an overdose of emotion when she heard someone approach from behind her. She swallowed hard to clear her voice.

"I don't want to talk about this right now. I need some time to think."

"Times up, purtty lil thing." A scratchy voice announced from just behind her. Hermione turned in time to see the red stunner hit her straight in the face. 

By the time Hermione awoke, she was painfully bound, still cold, and wandless. All she could see was the rough wood of a cart under her.

"Still don know why we gotta lug her up this way." The same voice from before was speaking. "But you know 'em fancy types; they don like to let us Apparate right inta their houses."

Hermione licked her lips and swallowed. She was being taken directly to some old money pureblood family, maybe even one of those who had made a marriage offer. It seemed more than a bit rude to resort to kidnapping after less than a week without a response.

She worked to wiggle out of the ropes only to find they tightened with each movement. She was struggling to fill her lungs by the time the cart slowed. When it finally came to a stop, a tall dirty sort of man peered over the side at her. He gave her a rather unfriendly smile.

The man bit his lower lip as his eyes traveled over her body lewdly. He stuck his tongue into his cheek as if considering all the awful things he planned to do to her.

"Too bad 'ow yur worth so much all crystal and clean or we could 'ave some fun."

"Scabior?" A much more refined male voice called from a short distance away. "Do you have her?"

The man named Scabior looked put out for a moment and rolled his eyes before plastering on a toothy grin and turning to whoever had called him.

"Yes, Sir. Gots her right here, just as ordered. You gots my Galleons?"

"Bring her inside; I have your payment in the foyer."

She was hefted over another man's shoulder a moment later, but she couldn't see much more than a dirt road and some trees. 

She watched well-maintained steps turn into a gleaming wooden floor and then an expensive looking rub before she was flopped down onto a couch. She looked around to take in her surroundings and found herself in a lavishly appointed sitting room.

"Make sure to get her wand from them, Leo." The same voice from before brought her attention to the new man.

He was slim with well-sculpted features. He was old enough to be Hermione's grandfather, and she could only hope he didn't mean to take her himself.

"They say the rope isn't a part of the deal, Sir." Another old man entered, this one with a slight rounder face and probably ten years younger.

"You can go ahead and take it off her; I'm sure Hermione will be good for us." The first man said as he gazed down at her. Who she could only assume was Leo passed her wand to the unnamed man before using his own to undo the ropes around her.

She let out a gasp when she could finally breathe properly again.

"I don't know what you heard about me, but I don't take kindly to being manhandled or kidnapped!" She sneered at the man.

She rubbed her wrists and bit her lip as they were painfully raw from her bindings.

"What's this?" The man crouched down in front of her and picked at the crystal dove still hanging around her neck.

"It's none of your business." She said as she snatched it out of his hand.

"Lover's token? Do you already have someone?" He asked, staying much too close for her comfort. "Have you given your virtue to him?" His voice turned a bit cold. "Are you the newest model of slut?"

"Who are you?" She asked as she moved further onto the couch just to get away from him.

"You are going to sign this." The man said instead of answering her question. "Not that we need it, your family owes us a daughter." He snapped as he dropped a thick contract into her lap.

"What are you talking about? I have no idea who you are." She said and glanced down at what seemed to be a marriage contract. Funny, it was what she had gone looking for earlier.

"Where is my grandson?" The man asked as she read the thing dropped in front of her. It named her as Hermione Rosier, so she could only assume this had something to do with her Grandmother.

"Vinda was never married."

"No. That whore chose to run off with some dandy over me after we had finalized our contract. And he didn't even marry her! Too hung up on hold flames is my guess. Now the Rosiers will pay what is owed."

Hermione looked down at the contract once more.

"You're as pretty as she was." The man's voice was kind again, and Hermione figured he was more than a little unstable. "You'll make me pretty great-grandchildren." He added as if he was trying to convince himself.

It was then that she found the name of her intended on the contract, and she couldn't help but try and swallow the pile that came up her throat at the mere idea of the boy touching her.

"Marcus Flint?" She asked as she sneered up at the older man.

"Yeah?" The boy himself trotted into the room looking all the more for the troll blood everyone said ran in his family.

"Good boy, you're here. We need to get this wedding on before the Rosiers find out she is missing from the school." The elder Flint explained, and Hermione tossed the contract away from herself. She felt dirty, just being in the room.

"Aren't the parents of the couple supposed to sign the contract?" She asked as blood pounded in her ears. She needed to get to her wand, but she had been too distracted by breathing to see where the older man had stashed it.

"You're of age, dear, you can agree on your own."

"Well, I don't." She said as she got to her feet. She grasped the crystal dove so hard in her hand it was painful, but that pain was preferable to the very idea of being married to one of her school's biggest, dumbest, bullies.

"Well, Grandfather says you don't have a choice in the matter." Marcus directed his attention to her as if he was looking forward to whatever fight she planned to give him.

"This is the short of it, Miss Rosier, you either sign our contract and marry Marcus tonight. Or he will ruin you for any husband except for himself. We will make it well known what kind of woman you are, and no family but ours will ever wish to touch you again. Sign the contract on your own terms and maybe have some freedom in your life eventually. Or you can fight us, and you will never leave this house again."

"You have no idea what you're messing with, Mr. Flint."

"You think your all-powerful Headmaster will come and save you, dear?" The man sneered, and that was when she noticed her wand sitting on the small writing desk just passed him. "Let me tell you something that the riff-raff likes to forget about Albus Dumbledore. He's as much of a pureblood as the rest of us, and the fact that he took down your grandfather won't ever change the fact that they started that movement together."

"They what?" She asked, wide-eyed with shock. She hadn't even considered that Grindelwald and Dumbledore could have been friends.

"Do you think it was an accident you were taken so easily from his school? He wants to be rid of you, and any reminder of who he really is."

She whimpered and swallowed hard as she looked down at her hand. The crystal dove had sliced her palm. She needed to focus on escape and deal with the rest when she was safe. She noticed the contract at her feet and then looked over at Marcus, who seemed eager to spring on her.

"Make the right choice, girl."

Hermione slowly crouched down to pick up the contract she had dropped. She kept her eyes down as she looked over it again as she pretended to consider his words. This man knew only what the article had written about her. Pureblood women were trained to play meek kittens, and a man like Flint probably thought most women were just the same.

"Be a good girl, and you'll get a pretty dress to wear for the ritual." He offered, cajoling her.

"He'll be gentle?" She asked as he noticed a deep cut again. Her dove was stained red with her blood. The sight brought up emotions in her that she didn't have time for, but she allowed the thoughts of Diadem to bring tears to her eyes nonetheless.

"Of course, if you're an obedient wife, my grandson will have no reason to hurt you."

Hermione nodded and moved towards the desk as if she was only looking for a palace to sign the document. She made sure to keep her steps hesitant; she didn't want the man to remember where he had set her wand before it was too late.

"Grandfather?" Marcus warned a moment before she grabbed the wand and dropped the contract.

"What do you think you're going to do with that little girl?" The old man sneered at her, but Marcus was already exiting the room. It seemed he had memories of her from school, after all. "Do you think you could take on a full-grown wizard?"

A flash in the hall distracted him, and she cast a slicing spell he only barely blocked.

"You have no idea who I am, Mr. Flint." She growled with angry tears running down her face. "Do you think you offer even the smallest challenge?"

"Hermione, don't," Harry called as a group of wizards entered the room. She allowed her eyes to flick in the newcomers' direction to find Tom dragging Marcus in by the back of his robe and Diadem standing behind Harry.

"You all have no right to enter my home and attack my family." Mr. Flint hissed as Tom dropped Marcus in a heap on the ground.

"You are right; it seems Hermione has everything well in hand. We are not needed here, after all." Diadem said, and she couldn't help but smile. "The word you are looking for, little dove, is 'crucio.'"

"She isn't going to-" Harry started.

"Crucio!" She cast the unforgivable at the man, and he dropped like a stone. She put all her anger and confusion into the single spell as the man who would have her raped and locked away writhed on the floor at her feet. She stepped back as he peed himself.

"Hermione." Harry set a hand on her shoulder, and with the simple touch, she ended the spell. "There are Aurors on their way; you can't do that." He said softly. "You're better than that."

Her anger fro what she had witnessed earlier in the night had been siphoned away by the dark magic. She wondered if that had been a part of Diadem's plan in suggesting it.

"They're ours," Diadem added as he moved up behind her and wrapped his arms around her trembling form. "You saved yourself, little dove." He told her proudly.

"You've been fucking my bed friend," She said as she stood cold in his arms. "Does he even know who you are?" She asked through gritted teeth, trying to recapture her fury.

"No."

"What?" Harry asked wearily.

"Tell him, or I will die to do it myself." She threatened, and Diadem kissed her cheek.

"Harry-"

"My real name is Tom Riddle." Tom cut in, making them all turn to him.

Harry looked panicked as his hand wrapped around his wand. Hermione reached out and took the hand to calm him. She pulled it down to her side and warmed it between both of hers.

"He isn't going to hurt you, Harry," Hermione said, still feeling mostly numb. "For whatever reason, they want you alive."

"He's your friend." Diadem offered, and she rolled her eyes.

"So was Ron, and I doubt I will never find you anywhere near his ass." She said and ground her teeth. "Finish it."

"Hermione I am so sorry, I didn't know you and Professor Manacle were a thing," Harry said as he kept one eye on Tom. "You've known the whole time Corvus was Riddle?"

"I've taken a vow never to reveal his secrets; it's a very long story that I can't tell you."

"Harry, I am a fraction of Tom's soul, given my own life." Diadem explained with a slight bow of his head.

"You're a Horcrux?" Harry asked with wide eyes.

"Ah, so Dumbledore has figured it out." Diadem sounded pleased.

"Why am I alive? I spent so much time with you, you could have killed me any time!" Harry looked between the two other men still standing in the room. Hermione would have to look up Horcruxes later, but for now, she stood at her friend's side.

"That is simply answered by the fact Hermione can touch you, Harry." Diadem reached out towards the two of them but knew better than to try and make contact. "You're one of us. You are the sixth Horcrux, and Hermione is our match."


End file.
